Bloody Obsession
by Aggie Escott
Summary: Emily has an admirer, and she doesn't like it! Of course, lots of The Babe Aaron Hotchner! and some Spencer for my sister! Please, R&R for me. I love to hear from you. Rated K for violence. Changed to 'T' for chapter 6 sexual violence
1. The Rose

**BLOODY OBSESSION**

Chapter 1  
The Rose

_**Stalking has been defined as**__**"the wilful, malicious and repeated following and harassing of another person". **__- __**Meloy, 1998**_

_The delights of the room were few. The bed was lumpy, and the furniture didn't match. There was a picture on the wall, but it was screwed to the wall in each corner. The 'tea making facilities', of which much was made in the single page brochure, consisted of a mug, small electric kettle, and a notice to say that tea bags could be obtained from reception._

_But he didn't mind. It wasn't the contents of the room that was important to him, but rather the position of it. Directly across the square, one floor below, was her apartment. And this room, uninviting though it was, offered a perfect view of her living arrangements._

_So far, he was happy with them. She shared her living space, not with a man, but a cat; a small tabby that spent most of its life asleep on the back of the couch in her living room._

_Soon he would join her and share her life and the dreams would no longer fade during the sunlit hours, but would be reinforced by her presence. His breath shuddered at the thought._

_He glanced at his watch. Unless she was detained at work, she would be home any minute now. Today, for the first time, he had left her a gift, and he was excited, anticipating her reaction to it. _

_He unzipped his pants and took his place by the window, and he pressed his eye to the end of the telescope. He watched the road outside the block, and there it was; her car drove into the parking area right on time. He gave a satisfied sigh, and focussed the instrument on her apartment window and waited._

_Minutes later she appeared, and he could see she was holding the rose in her hand. He had searched for hours for that flower; deep blood red, almost black petals, crystal white chiffon keeping the thorns at bay, displayed in silky obsidian wrapping. He thought of her white perfect skin, her thick black hair framing her face, blood red lips...oh god, those lips._

_Soon my Sweet, those lips will brush mine!_

_He moaned softly and arched his back as he climaxed._

-0-0-0-

"I knew there was something wrong." Emily said. "I couldn't explain properly to you why, I just felt uneasy. Now I've been left a rose on my doorstep. On my doorstep, Hotch. Whoever this creep is, he's been right up here to my door!"

"Do you want me to come over?" he said, genuine concern in his voice. "I can check the place out for you, make sure there are no bugs, take a look at the security for you."

Emily sighed. "No, it's ok. For heaven's sake, I'm an FBI agent. This shouldn't faze me. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Hotch. I'll see you tomorrow."

"If you are at all concerned about anything, you call straight away, and I'll be there." he said. "You will call, won't you?"

"I will, Hotch. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, and Emily..."

"Yes?"

"I mean it. Call!"

She replaced the handset and looked at the flower. It was beautiful, there was no doubt. A little weird, maybe, wrapped in white chiffon and black paper, but very unusual. She took it to the kitchen and opened the bin, but she didn't throw it away.

So she had an admirer. Was that so bad? She took a tall straight black glass vase out of the cupboard, and unwrapped the rose. It looked nice in the vase. She made coffee, and took the vase and her drink back into her living room and put the vase on the table. She threw herself onto the couch and reached for her book, the latest Tony Hill novel. Whitechapel sat on her lap, purring contentedly.

-0-0-0-

Hotch looked at the phone for a few moments, before coming to a decision. He left his office and walked across to Dave's. He wasn't sure if he was still at work. Everyone else had gone for the evening, but like him, Dave had no one to go home for.

It was odd, he thought as he crossed the silent dark bullpen, when he did have someone to go home to, he rarely did. Now there was no one to care if he did or not, there were many opportunities to get home before Jack was in bed.

Life was perverse.

As he knocked on Dave's door, he realised that he could now think about Haley and Jack without getting that sickly knot in his stomach. Progress, he thought, sadly.

"Come in, Aaron!"

Hotch went in. "How did you know it was me?" he asked.

"You're the only other person who would still be here if he didn't have to be." Dave smiled. "Fancy a pint?"

"Sounds good." Hotch said. "I need to talk to you about something."

Later they sat in the lounge bar of a small hotel off the main drag. It was quiet, and there was no music. The bar maid was pretty without being brassy, and the air wasn't smoky. Aaron took a sip of his drink.

"Prentiss came to see me this morning." he said. Dave said nothing, but leaned forwards slightly. "She thinks she has a stalker."

"Has he threatened her?" Dave asked.

"No, and up until today, there has been no contact." Hotch said. "She said it was just a feeling. She thought someone had followed her to work four times last week, and she felt uneasy. She said herself that it sounded lame when put into words, but I told her that we would take it seriously. The police can't help."

"No." agreed Dave, "Not unless there has been an overt threat. You said, 'until today'."

"Yes." Hotch took another drink. "She called me just before we left. There was a rose on her doorstep when she got home."

"So he, if it is a he, has made contact."

"Yes, but no threat."

"Not all stalkers are harmless." Dave said. "Predatory Stalkers are the most dangerous."

"Hmm." Hotch frowned. "That's about power and control. Love Obsessional is the most common, but that can devolve into Predatory when the victim shows no interest."

Dave finished his drink. "Prentiss has been in the media lately, hasn't she?"

"After the last case she was in the papers, with a photo." Hotch said. "That is often the trigger for LO stalkers." He put his glass down. "Would you like to eat at mine tonight?"

"Thanks." Dave said. "We can get a take out!"

"Ok, and I want to do some research on stalking. If Emily has a stalker, she could be in danger."

"Reid will be able to tell us all the stats. But it would be nice to know before he tells us."

Aaron nodded in agreement, and the two men left the bar together.

-0-0-0-

_She liked the flower. It was in a vase in her living room. His heart soared. His first gift to her, and she liked it. He longed to hold it against her; to prick her skin with a thorn, and see the blood deep red against the pure ivory. The rose was perfect and reflected her flawless beauty._

I love you, Emily. Soon I will tell you!

_It was getting dark now. He shivered slightly as he watched the woman. She had been reading for a while now, and he desperately wanted to see what the book was so that he could read it too. _

_When she got up at just after ten, his heart beat so hard he thought he could hear it. She would go to bed now. _

_He finely focussed the telescope, and watched. She pulled the band from her hair and shook it loose; she took off her shirt and trousers and threw them in a pile by the kitchen door. She stood in the centre of the room in her underwear, and looked straight at him. He thought he was going to faint, and he moaned and shook and watched._

Oh god! Oh you are so beautiful, and you are mine! You will love me, Sweet Emily. We will always be together...

_She opened her bathroom door, and for a while, she was out of his sight, although he aimed the telescope at the bathroom window, he couldn't see through the obscured glass .When she re-emerged, her hair and body were wet and he imagined how her skin would feel under his fingers, droplets of water on her body. He imagined how she would smell, pure and feminine. He cried out in his ecstasy, his hands gripping until it hurt._

Soon, My Emily. Soon...


	2. Almost Assignation

Chapter 2  
Almost Assignation

"_**I don't need to sell my soul; he's already in me. I want to be adored." – The Stone Roses**_

Emily lay in bed for a long time that night before she went to sleep. She had always thought that stalking happened to young pretty women, not women like her. She never thought of herself as nice looking – a bit too masculine to be called attractive. She hated the thought that some one had crept up to her door and left the rose. She tried a little self profiling, trying to work out what could possibly make her a target in a city full of beautiful women. He job maybe? She thought it could sound glam to someone who didn't see the bodies and blood that she had to look at. All they saw was flashing her FBI ID and driving round in nice SUV's.

She had closed the blinds in her bedroom, although she liked to have them and the window open.

_Damn! The creep was making her change! She was altering her life because of him! _

The thought made her angry. She determined not to let this affect her. After all, all he (or she?) had done was leave her a rose.

Feeling a bit silly, she turned over and pulled the quilt over her shoulder, and closed her eyes.

-0-0-0-

Dave had spent the night on Aaron's sofa again. His back cricked as he tried to move when he woke up. Said sofa was about a foot too short for him, and it wasn't the best night he had spent. Aaron had offered his own bed, or he could make up the spare room for him.

"_Oh no, Aaron. I'll be fine here."_

Next time he wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the offer.

He looked at the empty bottles on the table. He had had three of them; Aaron had had the rest. Dave was becoming worried about him. Since Haley had walked out, He spent a lot of alone time drinking. He had called on him unexpectedly a few times, and caught him a bit tipsy, with empty bottles on the table. He had seen no change in his work. If anything he seemed more committed than ever. But it was a concern.

He rolled off the sofa and uncramped himself painfully and went to the kitchen to put the coffee on. He sat and thought about Prentiss and her stalker, if that was indeed what this man was. So far there was nothing malicious, but he knew how quickly and suddenly that could devolve. It could carry on for years before it became dangerous. But then, no one really knew how long this man had been watching her. He got out two mugs, and poured himself a strong coffee. While he waited for Aaron, he got out his notes he had made the night before on stalkers, and read through them. By the time Aaron came down, he felt familiar with the information.

It was likely that this UnSub was an 'Intimacy Seeker', probably Erotomanic or, as Aaron had suggested, Love Obsessional. He was writing annotations, when Aaron came in.

"Morning." he said, deliberately leaving out the 'good'.

Dave smiled up at him. "I've been thinking about Prentiss." he said.

"So have I. I don't think she should go home on her own until this is sorted. One of us, Reid or Morgan should take her home, and check her apartment with her at night." Aaron said. "She's quite capable of looking after herself, but if anyone is waiting for her, it would be better if there was someone to back her up." Aaron went to a cupboard and took a towel out for Dave. "I think we should sweep her apartment for bugs."

"Thanks." he said. "And yes. I think that would be wise."

Dave went off to shower, and Aaron poured himself coffee. As he sat down his mobile rang.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, my car won't start."

"Go back to your apartment, Emily. Rossi or I will come and fetch you."

"It was fine last night, Hotch. I think it might have been tampered with." she said. "I'm already back upstairs."

"Stay there. One of us will be there shortly." Aaron said. "I'll have someone go and check out your car."

He cut the connection. That was a common tactic. Sab the car, and offer the victim a lift. Emily had more sense. He would ask Dave to go and pick her up, and he would arrange for her car to be checked.

He sipped his coffee. It could be nothing. Or it could be the UnSub's attempt at contact. This was starting to escalate.

-0-0-0-

_He watched her come out of her building and walk through to the parking area. He wasn't very happy this morning. She had closed her blinds when she went to bed, and denied him the pleasure of watching her sleep. He was angry. Why had she done that, when he had been so kind to her and left her a gift? It was selfish of her, and he wanted to smack her. When she was his, he would have to teach her some things. He checked what she was wearing today. Her top was a bit low. That would have to stop._

_He got ready. It would take her a few minutes to realise her car wouldn't start, then he would go over and offer to help. It would be nice to have her speak to him._

_He was about to run down the stars to help her, when he saw her walking back to her door! She was on her mobile!_

What are you doing? I am going to help you! Who are you calling?

_So! She wanted someone else to help her. Why? It hurt – it really hurt. Rejecting him. Why couldn't she love him like he loved her?_

_He knew why. She didn't know him well enough. When she got the bouquet he had ordered for her, she would change her mind. She would want him then! Eighty dollars...but worth every penny._

_He watched the apartment. She sat on her couch with her hands clenched on her lap. He felt sad that he couldn't help her. She needed to be loved. That was so obvious! When she got up and answered to door, an older man stood there. She picked up her bag and followed him out of the apartment. Minutes later, a black SUV left the parking area with her and the man in. So. There was a man in her life._

Don't you realise the danger you are putting yourself in getting in a car with a man unchaperoned? 

But don't be afraid, My Darling Emily. I won't let anyone touch you. I will protect you with my life!

_He left the hotel room, ready to spend the day watching for her at work. There weren't many opportunities to see her at work. But sometimes she went out at lunch time. Three days ago he sat in Starbucks opposite her while she had coffee and a sandwich with another woman – a very bland looking blond. Emily shone next to her, and he was proud of her. Maybe today it would happen again. _

_His body responded to his thought of being so close to her. _

_He parked his car in a quiet side street. He was ready now, and he gasped in ecstasy as he thought of how much he loved her, and how she would soon love him too. He reclined his seat and lay still, recovering._

Oh Emily, I will make you so happy. We will be perfect together, your shining beauty, I have dedicated my life to you. Soon now, it will be time...

-0-0-0-

The vehicle technician asked if he ought to bring her car back to the FBI HQ. Emily said no. She had agreed that it would be a good idea for her to be escorted to and from work for the time being, so the car might as well stay at her apartment.

The tech said that the HT lead had been loosened. Nothing serious. But it would have meant opening the bonnet, and it wasn't immediately obvious what was wrong. The UnSub would have had an opportunity to contact her.

Emily went to see Hotch during the morning to thank him.

"I can't believe this is having this effect on me." she told him, puzzled. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself."

"I can understand." he said. "It's an invasion of privacy. This man is entering your personal space uninvited. Of course it will un-nerve you." He paused. "Are you planning on going out at lunch time?"

"I do like to get out during the day." she said. "Even if it's only to Starbucks."

"If you do, take someone with you."

"I will." she smiled. "Maybe you would?..."

"What time are you going?" Aaron asked.

-0-0-0-

_He watched from over the road. The slut had a different man with her this time. _

I won't tolerate this unfaithfulness, Bitch! Do not do this to me!

_He sat at the far end of the cafe, and ordered coffee. He was too angry again, and couldn't drink it. _

"_Is your coffee ok, sir?" a young woman in a Starbucks tee shirt asked. He looked up at her, and hated her. Her nails were bitten, the filthy cow._

"_Go away from me." he growled. "You are disgusting!"_

_She blinked in surprise and backed away, her pasty skin reddening with embarrassment. He ignored her and went back to watching his lover...talking with another man._

This would have to STOP!!


	3. Protection

Chapter 3  
Protection

"_**The public good is in nothing more essentially interested, than in the protection of every individual's private rights" - William Blackstone**_

"Would you like something to eat?" Aaron asked her. He looked over at the blackboard behind the counter.

"A salad roll would be nice." Emily smiled at Aaron. She felt safe with him. His finger tips brushed with hers as he slid out of the alcove and went to the counter to order. She felt a shiver rush up her arm and dissipate through her body.

_I did not expect this...I can't believe this!_

Aaron came back with their order. As he sat opposite her, he remembered the time that she had come to his office that first day, and how he had rejected her. He hated to be over-ridden. He took pride in his team, but liked to hand pick the members of it. Emily Prentiss had moved in over his head, and it had angered him.

But now, she had certainly proved her worth, and he doubted he could have chosen better.

"Thank you." she said, wondering whether or not the finger tip brush had been deliberate, or if he felt the chemistry too. She picked up her knife and cut the roll in half.

"Rossi and I have done some research on stalkers," Aaron said. "We think the episode may have been triggered by the media coverage of the last case. I have asked JJ to make sure that your picture is kept out of the papers for now."

Emily nodded. "I never liked to see myself in the papers anyway." she said.

"Nor me." Aaron agreed. "That's one of the things I like about the BAU. There's no pushing and shoving for credit."

She took a bite of her roll. She could almost enjoy this – Lunch with a head-turningly handsome man, if it wasn't for the fear at the back of her mind. She glanced around the cafe. Was he here now, watching them? The thought gave her a deep twisting feeling in the pit of her stomach.

-0-0-0-

_He was indeed watching them. He had noticed how he had touched her, how he smiled at her, how he looked at her with those lustful eyes._

Think you are something, don't you. Keep your filthy hands off her. I won't allow you to contaminate her purity.  
He doesn't love you, he just wants to use you!

_He wanted there and then to go over and kill him. How could she allow this abomination to fool her? Later on, she would change. When she received the bouquet, she would reject this man's pathetic attempt at wooing her._

_He watched them leave the cafe, and he got up and followed at a distance. He kept his hands in his pockets, fists clenched as they were. He felt a rage burning inside him. He vowed there and then that no man would ever touch her again._

_He waited until they turned into the FBI building, then he went back to his car._

_He drove to his hotel room. There was no point in waiting at her place of work. She never came out in the afternoon. Ha lay on the bed, thinking of her incredible lips smiling when she received the flowers. _

_And damn that fawning creep to hell! He would not have her!_

-0-0-0-

When Emily returned to the bullpen, the first thing she noticed was a little group huddled around her desk. Reid looked up and saw her first.

"Looks as if you have an admirer!" he said.

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!" JJ said, half indignant at being left out of such an important piece of her life.

"I haven't!" Emily retorted.

"Well, they are pretty spectacular!" Garcia said. "They must have cost a fortune."

Emily picked up the bouquet. There was no note on it, nothing to indicate who had sent them, but she knew. Two dozen roses, so dark they were almost black, wrapped in white crystal organza, and shiny black paper.

She pushed the flowers in the bin under her desk. "Who brought them up?"

Her eyes were burning. Garcia and JJ stepped back in surprise.

"The girl on reception." Reid said. "Hey, Emily, are you ok?"

"No I'm not!" Emily answered. She turned to Hotch, who was standing at a discreet distance. "I'd like to go down and try to track down whoever delivered them."

"Go ahead." Hotch said, and returned to his office. He sat at his desk and called Dave.

"Hey, would you take Prentiss home tonight?"

"I can do that." Dave said. "I was going to ask you something, not work related. Will you be home tonight?"

_Of course he would. The only time he goes out is when I drag him out!_

"I'll be home." Aaron said. "What's this about?"

"I'd rather wait until we are out of work." Dave said.

"I'll get some food in. We can share a beer."

"Hah! I had enough last night! No beer for me!"

Dave put the phone down. Maybe if he didn't have a drink, then Aaron wouldn't either. Tonight he would talk to him about it. A man didn't have to be a drunk to slip into alcohol dependence. He had seen it before, and it was always a shock. Well, Aaron was not going down that road if he could help it.

Aaron frowned at the phone. What on earth did Dave want to talk about? Ah well. He'd find out soon enough. He thought he'd stop at the liquor store on the way home. He'd run out of beer last night. He decided he's get a bottle of single malt while he was there. He didn't want to get a beer belly.

He glanced out of his window at his team. Emily was sitting with her back to her desk talking to Reid. Was she telling him about the stalker? Flowers to the office opened her up as a subject of gossip. Reid was on his way to becoming a top profiler. His dealing with the D'Arcy Corbett case, and the bereaved father in particular, was outstanding. Emily couldn't do better than to enlist his help.

-0-0-0-

Emily waited ten minutes at the close of play for Rossi to finish. They were the last to leave from their department, Hotch had gone already, because he wanted to go to the shop and be back before Dave got to his house.

Prentiss told Rossi about the bouquet on the way home. She hadn't been able to trace them. A young lad had brought them in and said they were for Emily Prentiss, and then he'd gone. Dave wondered if the flowers could be traced because of their rarity. He filed it away in his mind to be written down later. When he stopped in her parking area, he got out with her and went up to her apartment.

"I don't think anyone has opened the door." she said, indicating a thread that she had put across the opening. "But it's possible it was noticed, and replaced."

Rossi took his side arm off his belt. Prentiss unlocked the door and did the same. He pushed the door open so that it was against the wall, and one by one he cleared each room.

"Looks as if its safe." he said. "I'll have someone come over tomorrow evening with you and check for bugs."

"Thanks." she said. "Hotch said that ought to be checked."

"The thing is, this UnSub could have come in a long time ago, to check the phone, read a meter. Or just collecting at the door." he said. "It literally takes seconds to plant a bug. It could even be done while you are in the room."

Emily nodded. She had searched the apartment for listening devices as soon as she suspected that there was somebody watching her. But they could be missed. What was needed was an electronic seeking device to make sure.

Rossi put his hand on her arm. "If you are worried about anything, you know to call, don't you?"

Emily smiled at him."I do." she said. It's good to know that I can."

Dave took the stairs down to the parking area. That was the easy job. Now was the difficult one.

He knew Aaron well. He wasn't a man to take offence, and he knew that the counsel would be accepted in the manner in which it was given – out of love and concern. But he'd still rather not have to do it.

He glanced at his watch as he quickly crossed the foyer of Emily's building.

-0-0-0-

_He watched her getting out of the black SUV. She wasn't carrying the bouquet, which surprised him at first – but then he thought, she probably had the flowers displayed on her desk. She wouldn't want to keep it to herself that he loved her._

_He had agonised whether or not to write a card; no, he decided. She would know!_

_He imagined her desk with the flowers on, and smiled._

That, my Darling is nothing to what I have planned for our future!

_She was with a man again. The same one that took her to work this morning. But why was he going up with her?_

_Slut! She was asking him in! _

_He watched as the man walked round her living space, looking in all the rooms, holding his gun in front of him. What was he looking for? He saw that Emily was holding her gun too. He had to look away, when the man went into her bedroom, and she followed._

_He felt physically sick, thinking of his beautiful woman being violated. Her innocence was incredible. Did she not realise what danger she was in, inviting this man into her life._

I won't happen again, My Love.

_He slipped on a pair of gloves, and wrote a note for her, and self sealed the envelope. He stood up and fastened his clothes. Under the bed he had a base ball bat. Perfect for what he was going to do._

_He didn't take the lift, but ran down the emergency stairs two at a time. He had to get out there before the man did. He ran across the road and stood by the wall that was the side of the porch way on the main door of her building. He could hear the footsteps of the man crossing the foyer. Adrenalin hit him and he felt his muscles tense. He gripped the base ball bat in his hands, and got ready. _

_As the man stepped out into the fading light of the Quantico dusk, he swung the bat. He hit the man in the face, striking him under his nose, across his top lip. _

_The man fell back with a muffled sound, and he heard his head crack on the hard floor._

_He made no attempt to get up, and for a moment, he thought he might have killed him._

_Not that it mattered really! It was a lesson he had to learn – not to touch his Emily._

_Quickly he slipped his hands under the man's arms, and dragged him down the steps and into the alley that ran along the side of the building. There was a lot of blood on his face, and his nose was bleeding profusely. He took the man's gun, and slipped it into his pocket. He put his hand into the man's jacket to take his ID, and as he did so, the man groaned and moved. He drew back his foot and kicked him in the neck, and the movement stopped._

_He opened the ID. _

'David Rossi'. Well, David Rossi. I don't think you will be touching my woman again!

_He took David Rossi's wallet and keys, and pulled his inert form to the dumpster that stood in the alley. Hew pushed open the sliding lid, and picked David Rossi up. He was a strong man, and this weight was easy for him. He laid the man along the opening, and rolled him into the mess. _

_Garbage collectors came this way in the morning. He didn't mind one way or the other, but if they took this man away tomorrow, then that was a lesson well learned._

_He looked at the base ball bat. It had blood on the end of it, and he knew enough about forensics to know that no amount of washing would remove it. He wiped his prints off it and threw it into the dumpster. It could never be tracked back to him. He stole it years ago._

_He pulled the lid closed, and put the man's belongings in his own pocket, and took out the note that he had written, holding it carefully in a tissue. Before he went back up to his room, he posted the note into Emily's mail box._


	4. Missing

Chapter 4  
Missing

"_**Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes." - Marquis De Sade**_

The bottle of single malt sat on Aaron's table, glowing gold as the early evening sun caught it in its rays. Aaron had already brought two glasses through ready. Haley's mother had given them to the happy couple, cut glass lead crystal. He felt like getting totally ratted and throwing them in the fire place. He really wanted a drink, but he didn't want to start until Dave got there. He had something not work related to talk to him about, and he wanted to be able to think straight when he did. If it was important enough for Dave to make a special visit for, it had to be important enough for him to stay sober for.

Aaron looked at his watch. He was surprised that Dave hadn't come round yet. He hoped that Emily was ok. There shouldn't be a problem with Dave with her, but he was concerned.

He called Emily.

"He left over an hour ago. He should have been at your place by now." she said.

"Did he say where he was going, if he was going to stop off anywhere?" Aaron thought he may have stopped off to get something to eat. He had never said, but he thought Dave didn't like his cooking. There again, Aaron didn't like his cooking either.

He called Dave.

This time the number didn't connect, which was odd, as there weren't many dead zones in Quantico. He tried again, in case he had misdialled, but got the same result.

He called Emily again.

"I'm coming over." he told her. "His phone is out of service, and I can't get hold of him."

He made sure Emily knew not to answer the door until he got there. He thought afterwards that this could have come across as patronising; Emily Prentiss had shown on many occasions that she was more than capable of looking after herself. But he couldn't help it. This was his team, and he needed to protect it.

He glanced at the bottle, and then he left his house.

It was only a short drive to Emily's house, and the first thing he noticed when he turned into the parking area was Dave's car.

Aaron felt a twisting sensation in his stomach, making him want to throw up.

_Where the hell are you, Dave_

He called Emily again.

"His car is still down here." he said. "He hasn't left."

"I'll come down, Hotch."

"No, stay there. I'll call you when I've found him."

He went to the car. There was no sign that he had returned to the car. He shone his flashlight around on the ground around the car. He checked for any blood or his keys, or other evidence that Dave had been attacked there by his car, but there was nothing.

Shining his flashlight on the ground, He checked every inch of ground between there and the main door. He swept his light across the floor at the entrance, but it wasn't until he looked at the door frame that he saw the blood. He took out his mobile and made a call.

-0-0-0-

_What did he want? Coming back to her living space? The filthy tart, what does he want with her?_

_He watched in anger as the man who fawned over his lovely Emily stood briefly outside the parking area, shining his flashlight across the pavement. He watched as he walked towards the main entrance._

_He had wanted to get rid of him when he was in Starbucks with Emily. He wanted to kill him then. Now he was in a furious rage. Emily had encouraged him, the whore, and now he was back and wouldn't leave her alone._

_He ran from his hotel room, the same way as he had earlier. He didn't want this one to find David Rossi's body in the dumpster. When he got to the door of the hotel that he had exited before, just before he killed David Rossi, he watched him over the road, talking on his mobile, checking something on the doorframe._

_He had to get him away from there, and teach him a lesson. _

_He had the gun that he had taken off the other one. He put his hand in his pocket and fingered the weapon. He didn't want to kill him now. He had a lesson to learn first, and he needed Emily to learn something too._

_He crossed the road and walked towards him. He had his back to him, and was looking closely at the wooden frame. As he got closer, he saw that it was blood spatter across the frame and onto the wallpaper in the foyer that had caught his attention._

"Excuse me, Sir?"

The man turned around, his dark eyes questioning him. He suddenly saw what Emily wanted, and a thrill rushed through him. He was compelled to touch him. He reached out and brushed his fingers against Aaron's cheek.

Aaron stepped back, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Uh...can I help you?"

Sudden realisation hit him. This man had been in Starbucks.

_Oh god...this is Emily's stalker!_

He tried to step back again, as he heard a gun cock. "Don't move."

Aaron held his hands in front of him, palms out. The man reached forwards and removed his gun, and put it in his pocket with David Rossi's ID.

"Walk in front of me. We are going round into the alley."

Hotch stepped out of the entrance and walked in front of the man down the steps and round into the dark passage next to Emily's building.

"Turn around, hands behind your head"

Aaron did, and faced the man, who had now taken the gun out of his pocket and was pointing it at Aaron's mid section. Pressing the gun into Aaron's body, he pushed him up against the dumpster where Dave was lying. He reached forwards and removed everything from Aaron's pockets. He dropped the phone on the floor and smashed it under his foot.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Hotch turned. "Where is Rossi?" he asked. "What have you done to him?"

He didn't answer, but turned the gun around in his hand and pistol-whipped him on the right temple. Aaron fell sideways, a soft groan escaping his lips. He bent his knees and tried to stand up, his head forward, feeling dazed, and for a moment, not understanding where he was. He felt blood trickle from the wound on his temple, as it ran into his eyes.

A hand in his hair pulled him upright, and pushed him further down the alley way.

-0-0-0-

Reid put the phone in his pocket, and left his apartment, picking up his jacket as he went. Hotch had sounded very worried when he called from the apartment building where Prentiss lived. Reid took the stairs two at a time and ran to his car. He was further away from Prentiss' place than Hotch and it took a good fifteen minutes to get there. He drove into the parking area, and parked between Hotch and Rossi's car. With his side arm in his hand he walked quickly round to the front of the building. He was surprised not to see Hotch standing there.

He went into the foyer. "Hotch!"

It was then he noticed the blood on the door frame. This must have been what Hotch saw, so where was he now? He was supposed to be waiting here for him. He took out his phone and called him.

Nothing.

He called Emily to see if he had gone to see her while he waited, but he wasn't there either. Reid rubbed his arm across his forehead. Where was he?

He went down the steps on the apartment block, and continued around the front, towards what looked like a narrow alley way running down the side of the building. He stood at the entrance to the passage, and shone his torch into the darkness.

"Hotch! Are you there?"

-0-0-0-

The passage had a dead end; at the end to he right was a door into the adjacent building.

"Open it." he said to him. Hotch pushed the door open, and he felt the gun hard in his back as he was pushed inside. He followed him in, and closed the door behind them. He pushed Hotch through the semi darkness across the room. Hotch briefly looked around, trying to get his bearings. They seemed to be in a storage area of hotel. He continued to walk in front of the man who was still pressing the gun into his back. After walking about fifty yards, he came up against a blank wall. He felt the gun press hard into his back.

"Ok, slime ball. Turn around."

Hotch slowly turned to face the UnSub. He groaned, and leaned back against the wall. He had no doubt in his mind that this man would kill him if he didn't do what he asked. He had no real reason to keep him alive. The blow to the head had affected his vision, and the man in front of him slipped in and out of focus. He wanted to ask him what he was doing, but the throbbing ache in his right temple was incapacitating him.

"I watched you with her today. I know you want to have her; I could see it in your eyes." He paused. Hotch swayed on his feet.

"I will not allow your corruption and filth to touch her, to pollute her with your sordid needs."

Hotch tried to get his thoughts in order. This man was dangerous. The wrong words and he would be shot. He blinked in the darkness, trying to put a sentence together.

"I saw the depraved lust in your eyes when you were watching My Emily." he said "When I have finished with you, you will never lust again."

He pressed the gun into Aaron's midsection, and reached up and stroked his face again. Hotch jerked his head back. The man grasped his hair to hold him still. Hotch pulled away as far as he could.

"I do not have a relationship with Prentiss." he said. "I am her boss, and as such I need to protect her from people like you." He pulled his head against the grip on his hair, and defiantly looked into the man's eyes.

"But you want to, don't you. And I can tell you now, you never will!"

Still gripping Hotch's hair, he cracked the back of his head on the wall. When he let go, Hotch's knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

The pointed the gun and fired two rounds. Hotch's body jerked twice as the bullets tore through him. As he blacked out, he thought he heard someone calling him.


	5. The Search

Chapter 5  
The Search

"_**I have been wounded but not yet slain. I shall lie here and bleed awhile. Then I shall rise and fight again." - Vince Lombardi **_

When he heard the gunshots, Reid jumped. He shouted Hotch's name into the darkness, not expecting an answer. He snatched his phone out of his pocket and called Prentiss.

"Emily, I need back up." he said. "I can't find Hotch, and I heard a gunshot."

"I'm coming down. Wait for me." Emily cut the connection, and grabbed her gun and ran to the door. As the lift took her down to the foyer, she stood ready, sidearm in front of her. Reid was waiting for her outside.

"Something has happened in the alley." he said as they both ran around the side of the building. Emily stopped by the dumpster. Reid ran on ahead.

"The shots came from down there." he said. Emily was on her knees, shining her flashlight in the ground beside the dumpster.

"There's blood here." she said, standing up. "And on the side here. She pushed the lid back and shone her light along the edge. The beam picked out blood smears. She pointed the beam into the dumpster.

"Oh god, Reid. It's Rossi!"

As Reid ran back to join her, she pulled a wooden crate round from the side, and stood on it. Without thinking of her own safety, she climbed over the side and dropped down next to Rossi, sinking down up to her ankles in the mess. Reid stood on the crate, and leaned in.

"Is he?..."

She touched his neck. "There is a pulse, Reid. Help me get him out."

She turned him over, and wiped her hand across his face, ensuring that his airways were clear. She pulled him to the edge, and, leaning his inert body against the side, pulled him up. She held his hands up, and Reid took his wrists, and between them, they pulled him out of the filthy mess that he had been lying in.

Emily climbed back out. Reid had carried Dave to the entrance of the alley where the light was better. Although he had a thready pulse, he wasn't breathing. Reid knelt astride him, and started chest compressions.

"He's not breathing, Emily."

Emily was on her mobile, calling the emergency services. She sat at Dave's head, and wiped his face with tissues. She saw the deep cut on his lip and dried blood under his nose. There was a lump on the back of his head, and a deep bruise on the front of his throat. It was probably the neck injury that was life threatening. She cleared his mouth of clotted blood and debris, and turned his head to one side.

"Come on, Rossi. Breathe for me." Reid said. Emily checked Dave's pulse again, and leaned down, checking his breathing.

"He's breathing, Reid."

Reid's arms were aching. He knelt back on his heels and flexed his arms. They heard a vehicle pull up. The paramedics had arrived.

-0-0-0-

Aaron felt pain. He was sitting with his arms behind him, and his legs out in front of him. His head was slumped forwards. The pain was from his legs. He made an attempt to move them, and the resulting agonising shock almost knocked him out again. The pain made him scream; the cries gradually became soft whimpers as he fought for control. His muscles tensed, and he slowly lifted his head, and tried to open his eyes.

Blood from the head wound had run into his eyes and dried there, sticking his eye lids together. His hands were bound behind him around what felt like a pillar. The dreadful pains in his legs had made his eyes water, and the tears slowly moistened the blood in his eyes. He tried again to force open his eyes. His eyelashes fluttered as he at last managed to force his eyes open enough to see…

He was in a large room, tied to one of the many pillars supporting the huge vaulted ceiling. There were no windows, so he thought it was probably underground, a basement, or shelter of some kind. He looked down at his legs.

He couldn't remember being shot, but both legs bore shocking evidence that he had been. Both knees had been shot out, a mess of blood and flesh with white bone shards sticking out of the wounds. He tried to move his feet, but all he managed to do was shoot indescribable pain up his legs into his body.

Someone was watching him from the shadows. As Aaron started to look around, the man came up close to him. He stooped down, and lifted Aaron's head by grasped his chin. Aaron tried to speak.

"What?..."

His words were cut off by a fist to the cheek bone. His head jerked backwards with an audible crack.

"You will not speak. You will listen."

Aaron's focus blurred and he thought he would pass out. He blinked to try and refocus. The man was speaking.

"...is mine. I watched you having lunch together. I saw you touching her. You disgust me. I don't know who you think you are that gives you the right to touch what doesn't belong to you. She will never want you."

Hotch said nothing. He was helpless, in constant pain, and dizzy, at the mercy of a madman. He was just glad that it was him, and not Emily, sitting here. The man was still speaking...

"...and when I've finished with you, you will not want to touch another human being again, man or woman."

"I don't..." Again, his words were cut off, as the man kicked Aaron's leg. He gasped again as fresh blood ran from the wounds into the puddle that had formed on the cold hard ground behind his legs. This time it was too much and he fainted. His body slid sideways and his head hit the ground with a sickening crack.

-0-0-0-

"_Stupid creature, thinks that because he carries a gun he can get the better of me." he mumbled to himself. He glanced back at the man he had dragged here. The blood looked black and shiny from here, a new patch growing around his head. He really didn't want to kill him; not yet anyway. He needed to teach him a lesson first, then, and only then, he could die. It really wouldn't really matter then ._

_But he was missing Emily. He needed to get back to the hotel and watch her some more._

_He ran up the stairs, growing hard at the thought of seeing her again. He opened the door to the old motel, and left the building. The pervert tied up downstairs, he would take care of later. It mattered little that he was a man. He had had men before._

_He pulled the plastic sheet out of the rear foot well of his car, careful not to allow the blood that had collected thereon to trickle into his car. He folded it with the blood inside, and stuffed it in a barrel that many years ago collected water for the gardens that had once grown around the building._

_He could remember when he was a child coming here to play. It felt good to be playing here again._

_-0-0-0-_

_Back in his room, he sat once again by the window. He had seen as he drove in, an ambulance outside Emily's building._

_So they had found David Rossi then. They wouldn't find this other one though. He went over to where his jacket was on the bed, and took out Hotch's ID. He still hadn't checked his name. He opened the ID and read the name. Aaron Hotchner._

Well, Aaron Hotchner. I hope you are awake when I get back to you. I want you to fully experience your humiliation.

-0-0-0-

Prentiss and Reid watched as Rossi was lifted onto a stretcher, and taken to the waiting ambulance. They were asked if they wished to travel with him, but they still had to find Hotch. They hated the thought of Dave waking up in hospital alone, but Rossi wouldn't want anyone with him if Aaron was missing.

Reid couldn't get the gunshot sounds out of his head.

Together they walked along the passage, guns ready and flashlights sweeping the area ahead. When they reached the end, Emily pushed open the door on the right.

"He must have come through here." Reid said. "It's the only way out."

The storage room was now very dark; their flashlights cut through the dingy air. There were footprints in the dust, and Emily stooped down to examine them.

"Two sets of prints, Reid." Reid followed the trail over towards the far wall.

"One of them is hurt, I think." he said. "Look how the prints stagger."

Emily felt an almost overwhelming fear. Was this Hotch, being taken by the man who was watching her? Was this her fault? Suddenly she felt a sickening unease. She swept the beam of light around the room, expecting at any moment the stalker to attack. She heard Reid call her.

"Oh my god, Emily...Oh no!"

She quickly went to stand beside him. He shone his torch on the wall at a smear of drying blood. Emily examined it closely. Several strands of black hair were caught on the rough surface of the wall.

_Hotch!_

"Emily." Reid said. "Look."

His light was trained onto the floor. She followed his eyes, and it felt as if a hand had grasped her heart and squeezed.

She knelt down again. The pool of thick blood was broken by what looked like pieces of flesh. A piece of fabric clung onto a splinter of bone. Just a short distance from the edge of the blood pool were two cartridge cases. A smaller patch of blood had collected a few feet away.

"Oh god...Hotch!" she breathed.

The blood was smeared across the floor towards a back door. Reid shook the door. "He was dragged through here." Reid said, highlighting the blood as the trail disappeared under the door.

"Is it locked?" Emily asked.

Reid nodded. He aimed his gun at the lock. "He could be alive on the other side of this door." Reid said, and fired. The door splintered and swung open.

-0-0-0-

_He was getting impatient. Why had she not come home? He went and sat on the bed and undressed. He took some photographs from under the mattress, and spread them out on the quilt. The sound of a distant gunshot made him jump, but not enough to distract him from what he was going to do._


	6. Future Effect

**A/N - noncon AH/OMC...you have been warned**

Chapter 6  
Furture Effect

The room was empty. Emily and Reid shone their flashlights around the space. There was a blood smear across the room in the dust, towards the only other door. Carefully, without disturbing the blood or the occasional footprint that hadn't been obliterated as the body was dragged, Emily and Reid crossed the room. Neither spoke as Emily tried the door.

This one wasn't locked, and it opened into a back alley strewn with rubbish. The collected water on the filthy concrete had diluted the blood, but the trail was still visible. They followed it to the end of the alley, and the trail stopped at the side of the road.

Emily spoke. "He was driven away."

"I'll call it in." Reid said, fast dialling Morgan.

While Reid told Morgan what had been happening, Emily called the crime lab. This scene had to be processed. Reid placed crime scene tape at the entrance of the alley, and back at the entrance at the side of Emily's building. They waited until the CSU arrived, and then returned to the BAU. The rest of the team needed to be briefed. As Emily drove them back to work, Reid called the hospital to check on Rossi.

"How is he?" Emily asked as Reid put his phone away.

"'Comfortable.'" Reid said. "He's ok, but it will be a few days before he can come home."

Emily received the news in silence. She felt responsible for the situation. Rossi hurt, Hotch missing; this was down to her. She was deep in thought as she drove through the empty Quantico streets. The only way she could see of finding Hotch was to allow herself to be taken by the UnSub, and somehow get word back to the team. She would suggest it to Morgan, or Straus if she took charge. She realised that Reid was talking to her.

"Sorry, Reid. I was thinking about something." she said, as she drove into the underground car park.

"It's ok, Emily. But you really don't need to feel guilty about what has happened. You didn't ask for this." he said. "You are in no way responsible. The responsibility lies with the UnSub, Emily. Don't forget that, will you."

Emily looked at him in surprise. Reid was studying her, profiling her. "I won't forget." she said, and looked down as she unclipped her seat belt. She turned back to him. "And thank you."

-0-0-0-

_He put the photographs back under the mattress, and went over to the window. It was late now, and Emily's apartment was in darkness. He suddenly realised that he didn't know if she was home in bed, or if she was still out. He couldn't see into the car parking area from where he was._

_He thought of the man he had imprisoned on the other side of town. He felt hyped up and excited after the day, and he needed an outlet. He couldn't watch Emily; he needed something else_

_He decided to pay him a visit._

_The drive back across town seemed longer than before. He put it down to the excitement that he felt. His victim was weakened now, and couldn't escape. When he had taken him, he would bring Emily to see what happened to people who tried to take her from him. She would, he thought feel safe with him, knowing he would protect her from any harm or molestation. The more he thought about what he was going to do, the more excited he became._

_He had forgotten the man's name, but that didn't matter. Most of the men and women he had screwed he didn't know the names of. A few he killed after, but most he let go, if they hadn't seen his face. This one was going to die, so it didn't matter. He preferred it that way. He wanted his victim to take a good look at man who was going to kill him._

_He drove out of Quantico to an old deserted wine making and storage building set away in the woods surrounding the town. He took his car around the back and made his way down to the cool cellar where many years before, the wine vats were left to mature._

-0-0-0-

Hotch was lying where he had fallen. The pain was making him feel sick. He wanted to try to free himself, but even the slightest movement brought bile into his throat and his legs moved. He attempted to put the pain into the background, and think about how he was going to escape. If he could free his hands, he would have to drag himself across the floor, and just the thought of moving that much made him feel dizzy.

He pulled himself over onto his side, and tried to open his eyes. It was so dark, that he couldn't make anything out in the room. His face hurt from being hit, and his head was thumping in time with his heart beat. He wanted to sit up; make himself ready for when the UnSub returned, but again, even with the maximum control, the pain was too much. He collapsed back down onto the cold rough floor. He closed his eyes; there was nothing he could see. And he waited.

He could hear his own heart beating, and he felt the dampness of his breath on his face as he fought to remain conscious. When the sound of someone coming down the steps into the room broke the silence, he held his breath, waiting for the UnSub to show himself.

Hotch felt the vibrations of footfalls coming closer. He opened his eyes again, but there were no lights on. He suddenly felt hands in his hair, and he gasped as he was roughly turned onto his front. He turned his face to one side, and breathed lightly and rapidly. He didn't want to let this man know how much he was hurting him.

"Let me see your face, you bloody coward." Aaron said. He wanted to keep his voice even, show this man that he was far from beaten.

He felt his shirt being pulled from his trousers, and hands under him unfastened his belt and pulled it out of the loops. Hot shaking hands pushed his shirt up his back to expose his skin. He yelped as the man hit his back. The buckle cut and tore his skin.

"You will not speak." he said.

He felt a weight of someone kneeling astride his legs. The weight pulled at the skin on what was left of his knees, and the agony overwhelmed him. He felt his limbs lighten, and he fainted.

The man on his back felt the strong taut muscles beneath him go limp.

"NO! "he shouted at the unconscious man."You will feel this!"

Pulling Hotch's head up by the hair, he shook his head like a dog would shake a rat.

"Wake up, Filth!" he shouted, twisting his head round and smacking Hotch's face.

Aaron groaned as awareness returned again. He felt hands under him, pulling at his clothes. He knew what was going to happen, and he couldn't do a damned thing. He was sickened as he realised he was going to have to lie here and let this man do what he wanted to and with him. He had a gun in his ankle holster, and yet he had allowed himself to be disarmed, beaten and restrained.

His clothes were pulled down past his hips; hands grabbed at his cold skin, and the man was pressing into him. Aaron cried out, and his body arched and struggled against this violation and abuse. It hurt, as if his insides were being ripped apart, and he could do nothing. His hands restrained, his legs smashed, his head and face beaten. The man laid down on him, spreading his weight across Aaron's back, and bit at his neck, all the time panting and moaning as he tore the dignity and pride from him. Hotch tried to pull his upper body away, using the pillar around which his hands were held as leverage. Fingers dug into his shoulders, and pushed him down, digging into his flesh. The hands moved upwards, one gripped the front of his neck, the other his hair. As the man climaxed, he yanked Aaron's head up and back. Aaron opened his mouth in a silent scream as the agony of the rape and the gunshots crushed him. His head was cracked down on the ground as the man finished and dropped down onto him, breathing foul breath against the side of Aaron's face.

Aaron slipped into blessed unconsciousness, his last thought being that he hoped that he would not wake up again.

The man rolled off Aaron, and lay panting and excited on the floor beside him. Often his victims were beaten into a coma before he took them. The tight muscles of a living, fighting man was something new for him, and he was exhausted, and ecstatic.

He had brought a blanket from the car with him, and he dressed himself, and wrapped it around himself as protection against the bitter cold of the vaulted room. He also had a lamp, which he stood next to his prone victim, and switched on.

Hotch was lying very still, partially dressed, and dirty and bloody. His hair was matted, and his eyes, now closed, were swollen and red where he had been beaten. His lips were bleeding and he had dirt and blood smeared over his face.

There were bruises on his neck where he had bitten him, and a raised welt on his back, ending in a cut where the belt buckle had torn the flesh. There was a thin river of blood dripping onto the floor from his thigh, and then the backs of his knees, a red mess of flesh and bone splinters.

This man was not easy to kill, he thought. All his other victims would have given up on life by now, and yet this man was defiant and refused to die.

Maybe, just maybe, he would save him up for Emily.

But he had to get her first.

-0-0-0-

"_**People out there must be told about the self-loathing that follows rape and how it's the greatest breakage in divine law to mutilate themselves, as I have done." - Tori Amos**_

**AN - Sorry, PB. I know I said it would be in this chapter, but they went back to Quantico! I'll really do it next chapter though. I promise...no! no! please don't hurt me...(Sis)**


	7. A Touching Moment

**A/N – Here you go, sis. I hope you like it!**

Chapter 7  
A Touching Moment

"_**Confidence... thrives on honesty, on honour, on the sacredness of obligations, on faithful **__**protection**__** and on unselfish performance. Without them it cannot live.**__**" - Franklin D. Roosevelt **_

Because this was not an 'official' BAU case, Straus left Morgan to run the investigation. He sat in the conference room with Reid, Emily, Garcia and Jareau. On the table was the dead bouquet that the UnSub had sent to Emily. Morgan was speaking.

"These roses are new," he said. "They are called Anne Boleyn, and this is the first year that they have on sale."

"I'll find out who is selling them." Garcia said. At Morgan's nod, she left the conference room, and headed for her bunker. He turned to Emily. "I don't really want to send you out in the field." he said. "But we need you out there."

Emily nodded in agreement. "I want to get back out there. This is my..." She stopped mid sentence when she saw Reid's look. "I want to." she finished lamely.

"Ok, you and Reid, would you check out the buildings surrounding your condo. I'll go with JJ to the primary crime scene and see if there's any security tapes we can check, and we'll have a chat with the CSU's."

He stood up and led his diminished team out of the room. It felt wrong somehow. He didn't want to lead like this, by default. He had constant thoughts of 'how would Hotch, or even Gideon, have handled this'.

But he couldn't base his temporary leadership on either of the Agents he had served under, both of them led in totally different ways. If he ever had a team to lead himself, it would be as Derek Morgan.

The four agents got into the SUV and Morgan drove to Emily's.

-0-0-0-

Emily felt floaty, as if she wasn't really there in the car. Driving back to her home on a case made her stomach knot. This was blurring her compartments; home and work should stay separate, and this case was smashing down the walls she had so carefully constructed.

When this was over, she would have to move. Her comfort zone had been compromised. Her home was no longer hers, but had been invaded, and she didn't think she would be able to live in it any more. She felt deep anger and resentment towards this UnSub. This was personal.

Morgan parked the SUV in the parking area of her building, and they partnered up and walked away in different directions. Across the square from her building were an hotel and an apartment block. They took the apartments first, and began house to house.

-0-0-0-

Morgan left JJ with the CSU's, and went off to see if there were any security tapes to be had. The ones for the apartment building where Emily lived only showed the lobby, but he knew that Rossi was attacked as he left the building, and there could be images of the UnSub. The building next door 

was a closed down Hotel, currently being converted into condos. There were no tapes to be had that showed the street outside.

Morgan looked up at the next building. This was an hotel whose conversion to condos had been completed. Very expensive. He was sure that there would be security tapes here. The alley way separating this from the one under conversion was where Hotch had been dragged, and probably driven from. This seemed to be the best bet, even if he only got the car that had been used. Feeling hopeful, he went in and, flashing his ID, asked for security.

-0-0-0-

The CSU had gathered most of the evidence now. The blood would be tested for DNA to check that it belonged to Hotch, and there were some prints on the shell casings.

"FBI issue fire arm." the CSI said. "Looks like he was shot with his own gun. We won't be sure until we have looked at them in the lab. There are prints on all three doors where they entered. The foreman of the construction team had said that none of his men come down here, so the prints are probably either the vic or the perp."

JJ didn't like Hotch being referred to as a 'vic'.

"He has a name." she said. "He is one of ours. Please show some respect."

JJ walked away from the CSI before he could answer her. She had never 'lost it' with anyone while she was working before. Her job was to stay calm when being pressurised by the media. She didn't want to jeopardise the case by antagonising the people who would help them find Hotch. She went outside to regain control and calm down.

-0-0-0-

There were very few people at home in the block, so it didn't take long to knock all the doors. Emily and Reid took the stairs down.

"Are you alright, Emily? You seem a bit out of it."

She stopped on the landing. "I don't feel well, Reid. It's this case. Hotch and I had lunch together, and then he disappears." She sat on the top step. "It doesn't matter that logically this isn't my fault. I still feel responsible."

Reid went back up and sat beside her. He was surprised that she felt she could talk to him but recently people just seemed to open up to him. His mind flashed back to when he was in the car with Hotch, and he had unburdened himself, telling him about Haley and the divorce. And now Emily.

"I understand, Emily. And it's very hard to deal with. I could tell you again that it's not your fault, but that won't help."

Emily was looking down at her hands scrunching up the front of her jacket. "The only thing that will help is catching this UnSub, and finding Hotch alive." She felt tears pricking her eyes. Reid took her hands.

"It will be ok." he said. "You just need to..."

"Need to what?"

The voice behind them made them both turn at once. The man who was standing there was looking down on them, fury in his eyes. They both stood up. Reid placed himself between the man and Emily.

"Uh...hello. I am Doc..."

The fist in his face unbalanced Reid and he fell backwards down the stairs. Emily turned in horror, and tried to catch hold of his hand, but they had been taken by surprise. She heard Reid's head crack on the concrete steps, and she saw blood. She went to run to him, and a strong hand gripped her arm.

"You let him touch you!" the man said.

She turned to look at him, wincing as the fingers tightened on her arm.

"I will allow who I want to touch me!" she spat. "Now let go!"

The man smiled at her and pulled her closer. "I love you, Emily. Now I have you, I will never let you go." He took a set of cuffs off his belt and clipped one around her wrist, and the other onto the hand rail. "I really love you. I won't tolerate rivals!"

He took her gun and phone, and put them on the landing out of her reach, and went down the stairs towards Reid. Emily screamed his name, and yanked at the restraints. Reid was starting to move. He groaned and put his hand on the back of his head.

He could hear Emily calling his name, and he tried to remember what had happened. He rolled painfully onto his back and went slowly for his side arm, but another hand was already there removing his gun. Reid looked up into the UnSub's face. He could hear Emily screaming for help.

But he knew that the block was deserted. There would be no help.

The UnSub pocketed the gun, and kicked Reid in the ribs. He felt something give, and he curled sideways away from the assault, and groaned.

"You will not touch what belongs to me." he said, his voice deep and threatening. The second kick was to the side of the head, and Reid was dazed. Hands gripped his shirt and pulled him up. His eyelids fluttered and his head rolled back. Blood trickled from his nose, and ran down across his lips. The UnSub dragged him to the wall and held him up against it so that their eyes were level.

Reid struggled to open his eyes. He felt dizzy and sick, and his head rested back. The man shook him, and Reid whimpered as his head struck the rough concrete wall. He could feel rivulets of blood on the back of his neck.

"She does not belong to you." he said softly. The man hit Reid in the face. Reid's mouth filled with blood as his teeth cut into his cheek. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc across the UnSubs face as his head rocked under the assault. His eyes were closed, and he felt lightheaded as the big man lifted him off his feet and swung him round. He heard Emily scream and the man roar as he was thrown down the next flight of stairs. Something in his arm snapped as he landed near the bottom of the stairs.

He knew he had to get away, and get help for Emily. He started to pull himself up by gripping the balustrade; now he only had one arm to work with. A hand in his hair pulled him away from the hand rail which slid from his bloody hand and Reid was again smashed against the wall. One hand held him up by the throat, the other struck his abdomen. He wanted to bend forwards to relieve the agony. Another punch to the face, and the hand released his neck. With a sigh he fell in an unmoving heap at the man's feet.

The man pulled him across the landing, and picked him up. He looked over the side of the handrail down two stories. There was no sound coming from below. The beaten bloodied man in his grip moved slightly and groaned.

He lifted Reid and tipped him over the handrail and watched as he fell onto the marble floor twenty feet below.


	8. Togetherness

Chapter 8  
Togetherness

"_**We really have to understand the person we want to love. If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love. If we only think of ourselves, if we know only our own needs and ignore the needs of the other person, we cannot love." - Thich Nhat Hanh**_

Morgan walked back to meet Jareau. Neither had had a great amount of success. Morgan just hoped that Reid and Prentiss were having more luck. Morgan went back to the SUV and locked the security tapes in the boot, and together he and JJ crossed the square to meet up with the others.

They reached the apartment block first. The security door was on the latch, and Morgan pushed it open slowly. He had a bad feeling in his gut, and his hand automatically rested on the grip of his gun. At first he thought it was a pile of old clothes, when it suddenly occurred to him that this wasn't the neighbourhood where rubbish was left strewn over the landings. Gun drawn, keeping Jareau behind him, he approached.

"Oh god!" He fell to his knees and gently touched Reid. He was lying in a pool of blood, one arm under him, the other by his side. His legs were bent awkwardly. Eyes closed and swollen, blood under his nose and running from his mouth, his hair a matted mess of dried blood. Morgan searched for a pulse.

Jareau stood behind Morgan, her hand across her mouth, eyes wide and staring.

"Call an ambulance." Morgan snapped. When she didn't move, Morgan shouted. "Now! For god's sake, hurry!"

JJ jumped into action, getting out her mobile and quickly dialling nine one one. Morgan felt a movement under his hand. He turned back to Reid.

"Hey Kid. It's ok. We've got you now."

Morgan saw his broken lips move as he tried to speak. The skin pulled apart, and more blood ran from the split in his top lip. Tenderly, he brushed Reid's wayward hair off his face, and bent down to hear what he was saying.

"Emily...UnSub..." His voice was barely audible. As he struggled to speak, life seemed to be draining out of him. Morgan put his hand on the side of his face.

"Ok, Reid. I'll find her. Now stay with me Man. Don't you go anywhere." Morgan could feel the man weaken and he bent forwards and rested his forehead on Reid's. "Stay with me..."

"EMS are on their way, Morgan." JJ said. Morgan could hear that her voice was breaking, but he didn't move away from Reid.

"Help is coming, Spence. Don't sleep, stay awake for me."

Jareau knelt beside Reid and held his hand gently. The arm looked broken. It was twisted at an un-natural angle. A tear trickled down her cheek and fell onto Reid's white skin.

"Spence, we need you. Stay with us..."

She felt Reid's fingers slowly curl around her hand.

-0-0-0-

He left him on the marble floor without bothering to check him. He doubted that he would survive the fall, and even if he did, it wouldn't matter. He ran back up to Emily.

She was working at the screws holding the banister; one screw was on the floor, and another was almost out. The tips of her fingers were bleeding. She looked at him as he approached her.

"Where is Reid" she snarled. "I want to see him. Now."

"You won't be doing that." he smiled back. "You won't need him now that you have me." He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard on the mouth. She grabbed his hair and pulled his face away from hers. She felt sick.

He smacked her face, jerking her head back. "I can see I have much to teach you, you little whore." He hit her again, and this time, he drew blood. When he saw the deep red on her mouth he froze. He touched the stream that was running from her mouth. He thought of the roses, blood red, in white and black.

"You should not have made me do that." he said, in a voice tinged with regret. "Why did you make me do that?"

Emily was dazed, and she swayed on her feet. He quickly unlocked the handcuff that held her to the banister and clipped it around his own wrist.

"I didn't want to do that, but you must learn."

He pulled her up the stairs. She missed her footing, and he gripped her wrist and dragged her up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood and skin where the rough concrete tore at her legs. She tried to gain a foothold, but he was moving too quickly, and she was still dizzy from the fist to her face.

The door onto the roof was closed, but not locked. He pulled Emily through the door, and pushed it shut again. There were some broken chairs and loungers scattered over the roof, and he picked up a length of metal and wedged it against the door so that it wouldn't open.

Emily groped for a weapon, but he saw what she was doing, and pulled her away sharply. Emily yelped as the cuffs dug into her wrist.

"Don't even consider trying to escape from me My Love." he said to her, lifting her up. He pushed her against the side of the door and held her wrists. "God you are beautiful!"

This time when he kissed her, she couldn't get away. She tried to twist her hands free, but she had no chance. When he had finished he released her wrists and she wiped her mouth. She gagged and leaned forwards and threw up on the ground.

He watched her, and said, "Soon the time will come that you beg for me Emily."

She wiped her mouth again. "Never. You are a psychopath. You need help."

He scowled at her and pulled her to the edge of the roof. The next building was about six feet away.

"Get ready to jump." he said to her, and moved back. "Ok, now."

Emily realised that if either of them missed, it would mean they would both fall, probably to their deaths. As he started to run, she did too, and when he yelled 'jump' she leaped across the gap between the two buildings. They landed in a roll, and skidded several feet across the roof.

"Good, Emily. I am glad that you are fit." He brushed her hair tenderly from her face. He touched the bruise and cut on her cheek. "Oh Sweetheart! Who did this to you?"

She said nothing, but pulled her head back from his touch.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Love. Did that hurt?" He lowered his hand. "Two more jumps, and we will be back to my car, and I can wash that cut for you."

Emily looked him in the eye, and was shocked to see concern there, and not the malice that she had seen earlier when he attacked Reid. The thought of Spencer being beaten up by this man made a knot form in her stomach.

_Please, Morgan, find Reid and get him help..._

He walked to the edge of the building again.

"Ok, My Darling, another jump!"

This gap was bigger, and she landed behind him, across the low wall surrounding the roof. Her shins scraped over the wall as he landed in front of her and dragged her along.

"That wasn't so good." he said, crawling back to her. "We have to hurry though, or they will catch us."

"Why don't we just give ourselves up?" she said. "They might be able to help us."

"They don't want to help us. They want to part us." He looked at her legs which were now bleeding hard. "Come on now, only one more jump."

He helped her to stand, and hurried her to the edge again. The blood was running down her shins into her shoes.

This gap was wider still. As they jumped, Emily thought of Brian Matloff. She missed the roof this time, he didn't. She screamed as she felt herself fall, and hang from the cuff around her wrist. She swung her other arm up, and gripped the edge of the wall. His face looked down on her. For a moment he let her hang there, and she thought he was going to let her drop. But then he reached down and pulled her up onto the wall. She sat and breathed deeply, as the feeling of panic gradually left her.

"I would never hurt you, Emily." he said, as if he read her mind. "I wouldn't have let you fall." he took her in his arms and held her close to him. "We are almost free." he said. "My car is close by."

Her shoulder hurt, and she wondered how much damage she had done to it. Her legs and her handcuffed arm were covered with blood. She limped painfully after him, as he opened the door to the stairs. "We're almost there, My Love." he said, putting his arm around her. He felt her cringe at his touch.

"Don't do that." he said, and pulled her down the stairs. She ran to keep up with him. There was no chance of her escaping all the time she was cuffed to him, unless she could find a weapon. Her feet were squelching in blood, and she was leaving bloody footprints in their wake. At least the trail would be easy to follow.

There was no-one about as he pulled her through the deserted lobby of the building, and out through the door. There was a dark grey Toyota parked opposite. As he pulled her across the road, he unlocked the car remotely. He opened the boot and smoothed out the blanket that was folded up at the back.

"I am so sorry, Emily, but I have to do this." he said. He put his hands on her neck and squeezed. She clutched at his hands as he choked her. When she went limp in his arms, he lifted her into the boot of the car, and unlocked the handcuff of his wrist and clipped it onto the hinge of the boot lid. Tenderly, he touched her face, and put his fingers on her lips. He felt her breath on his hand.

"Soon, My Love, soon."

He closed the boot, and went round to the front of the car. He saw in his mind's eye the man he had left in the wine store, and he wondered how Emily would react on seeing him.

He was getting excited again. He had already decided he wouldn't take Emily until she was willing. It had to be special; it had to be perfect.

But the man he could have again.

Smiling, he started the Toyota and headed out of town.


	9. Reunion

Chapter 9  
Reunion 

_**Jean-Jacques Rousseau said, "Man is born free and everywhere he is in chains."**_

He drove around the back of the building and into the undergrowth. There had been no sound from the back of the car, and he thought maybe Emily was still unconscious. He got out of the car and hurried around the back. He was very excited, and needed the man that was lying in the basement. He would have liked to have Emily, but a promise is a promise.

Soon, she would realise how good he was for her, and she would want him. He smiled as he opened the boot of the car.

She was awake, and staring straight up at him. He thought she had learned defiance off the man, but he would soon knock that out of her.

He unfastened the cuff off the hinge, and pulled Emily so that she was sitting in the boot. He pulled her arms behind her and cuffed her hands together.

"Ok, get out." he said, stepping back.

She still felt dizzy after he strangled her unconscious, and she still had the feeling of his hands on her throat. It wasn't easy to get out, with her hands behind her, and she fell at the last moment, and crashed down onto the ground. Gently, he bent down beside her.

"I am sorry, Love." he said, his hands under her elbows, he lifted her to her feet. He combed his fingers through her hair, brushing it off her face. He took a hankie from his pocket and wiped the dried blood from her face. He touched the bruises on her neck.

"I really am sorry." he said. "I never want to hurt you." His hand moved to the back of her neck and pulled her face towards him. Her eyes didn't waver from the defiant stare as she pulled away. "But sometimes, it's necessary."

"You are right, of course. But this isn't the place to consummate our love."

He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Come on inside. There is something I want you to see."

Emily walked in front of him towards the door. He was holding the hand cuffs, pushing her gently. Her mind was in a turmoil. What was this he wanted to show her? Was it Hotch? Was he being held here?

Was he going to show her his body?

They went through the door into a dark damp smelling lobby. He clicked on a torch and shone the beam on one of several doors.

"Through there, Emily. Open the door for me Darling."

Emily hesitated, and he twisted the cuffs, digging them into her already cut wrists. She really didn't want to know what he had on the other side of the door. She felt a terrible apprehension that it was going to be Hotchner's dead body. With a deep sick feeling, she pushed open the door.

"Be careful, Sweetheart. Let me switch a light on."

A feeble glow lit up a vast vaulted room. Brick built, and cold and damp, pillars and arches held the ceiling up. She surveyed the room from the top of a flight of stone stairs.

"Down we go, Honey. Just take care; the steps may be slippery."

She cautiously took the steps, leaning on the wall to keep her balance, all the time, her eyes looking for any signs that Hotch had been there. The light was dim at the peripherals of the room, and she couldn't see everything.

When they reached the bottom of the flight, she was led towards the darkened edges of the room. He pushed her against a pillar.

"I have a gun here." he said. "I don't want to use it, but I am going to undo the cuffs, and if you run, I will shoot you." He ran his fingers through the back of her hair. Emily stiffened at his touch. She heard the gun cock, and the cuff loosen on one wrist. She allowed him to cuff her hands around the pillar.

"I couldn't bear to lose you now." he said. He kissed her fingers. She wanted to be sick. When he walked away, she watched him.

"Where is Agent Hotchner?" she said. "I need to know."

"He's here." he said. The lamp was still on the floor where he had left it. He bent down to turn it on.

Hotch hadn't moved, and for a moment, he thought he was dead. Then his chest rose as he took a ragged breath.

"Oh god! Hotch!" Emily breathed.

He unfastened Aaron's handcuffs and released him. His arms fell away, and he pulled the man away from the pillar into the light, where Emily could see him. Partially dressed, beaten and covered with blood, she could only guess the torture he had been subjected to. She saw the smashed legs and the blood on his back. The man lifted Hotch's head so that Emily could get a good look. Holding his head up by hair matted and stiffened with dry blood, his swollen bruised eyes closed, his lips slightly open and smeared with blood, Emily turned away.

"Please," she said. "I'll do whatever you want. Don't hurt him any more. Don't kill him." Tears were falling as she realised what this animal had done to him. "Why have you done this?"

"I saw the way he looked at you, Sweetheart. He has no right to look at you like that!" He dropped Aaron back down, and she heard his head crack on the hard floor. He went back to Emily and turned her face towards him. "I love you. He doesn't. I will protect you from predators like him."

Seeing his captive lying helpless was exciting him. He really wanted Emily, but he could wait. In the meantime...

He lifted Hotch with his arms around his waist, and carried him to a darkened corner of the vast room. He didn't really want Emily to see what he was going to do. He turned Aaron onto his back. First he had to wake him.

He shook him, gently at first, then more violently. Hotch groaned, and turned his head to the side. He raised his hand, a feeble attempt to push his tormentor away. He pulled his head back

"Look at me!"

Hotch couldn't open his eyes. He expected that he would get another beating, but again he was helpless.

He forced his eyes open. Looking up at him, he said a single word.

"No"

Hotch felt as if he was wrapped in pain. He didn't know where he was hurt, every part of him cried out. Aaron screamed when the blood on his legs that had dried and stuck to the fabric was torn away as the man removed more of his clothes. He knelt between Aaron's legs and pulled his shirt apart so that he could touch his muscular cold flesh. Aaron cried and whimpered as the man abused him again. He tried so hard not to scream when the pain took him again. He had heard Emily. He knew she was there and didn't want her to know. And it encouraged his attacker. He tried not to, but he did anyway, when his legs were moved. He passed out with a soft sigh.

Emily knew. She heard him cry and whimper, and she heard the screams. She also knew it was down to her. She had to make this UnSub let her go. She rested her face on pillar and waited for him to come back. When she heard his footsteps, she looked up at him. He was sweating, his hair stuck to his forehead. He was carrying a chain.

"Hey!" she said, forcing a smile.

He smiled back at her. He crossed the room and dropped the chain. He touched her face with his hands. "I had to do that." he said, kissing her lightly.

"So when do I get to have some fun?" She cringed inside as she spoke, but somehow, she had to make him think that she wouldn't try to escape. She leaned towards him and closed her eyes. He kissed her again, and this time she kissed him back.

"I want to hold you!" she breathed.

"It's him you want, isn't it!" he said, backing away. She blinked at him.

"When it's you and me," she said, "It must be perfect. Not here."

He nodded. "I understand." he said.

"Can I see him?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "I don't see why not." he said. "Remember though, I have a gun."

"Don't you trust me?" Emily said.

He held her jaw and held it tight until she yelped. "No My Babe. I don't."

He undid the handcuffs, and fastened her hands in front of her. He threaded the chain through the cuffs and fastened the ends together around the pillar. He pointed the gun at her as she limped across to where Hotch was lying in a growing pool of blood, dragging the length of chain with her. It looked to Emily as if Hotch had been beaten again. His arms stretched out, and his legs bent awkwardly at the knees. His clothes were ripped and blood stained. Emily wanted to run to him, cover him, hold his hand. In stead she stood and looked down on him. She whispered his name, hoping he would hear her.

Slowly he opened his eyes and blinked at her. Ever so slightly he tipped his head towards his right leg.

_He still had his gun!_

"Do you still want to screw it?"

She turned and looked at the man. "Why should you have all the fun?" she said. "But in private, if you don't mind."

"Ha! I don't think so!" he shouted, grabbing her arm. "Why should I allow that?"

"It's only sex." she said. "When it's us, it must be new. I don't want to ruin the anticipation."

"I thought this might happen." he said. "There you are, Darling. Do as you want to it. Just don't kill it." he said, pulling her close. "I am going now, but I have left you a coat and blankets for you." He tilted his hear towards Hotchner. "Enjoy yourself!"

As he left, he switched on a tiny camera that he had set up. The screen was set up in a trailer a few miles away.

He was going to enjoy this!


	10. Gun

Chapter 10  
Gun

"_**There will be no justice as long as man will stand with a knife or with a gun and destroy those who are weaker than he is." - Isaac Bashevis**_

Jareau ran up the stairs in front of Morgan.

"This is Emily's cell." she said. It had been kicked to the edge of the landing. Morgan saw where the hand rail had been loosened from the wall.

"There's blood here." Morgan said, "And the paint has been chipped away. I think Prentiss was cuffed here."

"They had to have gone up, maybe onto the roof." Jareau said. "There's blood on the steps in places."

Guns drawn, they cautiously took the stairs to the roof, avoiding the blood evidence. The door wasn't locked, but jammed by something on the other side. Morgan kicked the door and it splintered and fell onto the roof in pieces. He and Jareau crouched, guns ready. Carefully, they moved out onto the roof. The footmarks and gravitational blood spots were clearly visible and led the two Agents across to a low wall that surrounded the roof.

"He knew where he was going. " Morgan commented. "There is no hesitation showing in these prints."

"They jumped?" Jareau said, surprised.

Morgan backed up, and followed them across the short gap. JJ stood and watched.

"I'll take the stairs!" she called, and ran back to the top of the stairway.

Morgan could see where they had landed; scuff marks on the roof cover. He followed the trail of blood droplets to the other side of the roof. The gap here was wider. Morgan looked over the edge, half expecting to see their bodies lying broken in the alley below. When he saw that they weren't there, he realised he had been holding his breath.

"Not this time." he mumbled to himself, and ran to the door onto the stairs.

He ran down, taking them two, and sometimes three, at a time. He met Jareau on the last flight.

"Next building!" he panted, and they both ran outside, across the front.

"You take this one, I'll go on to the next."

She nodded, and without hesitating, they split up.

As soon as Morgan entered the lobby of the building, he knew this was the way they had exited. He called Jareau.

"There is blood here in the lobby." he said. Within a couple of minutes, they were standing on the opposite side of the road where the trail ended.

"He drove her away from here." Morgan said. "Let's get those Security tapes back to the BAU."

-0-0-0-

David Rossi was being a pain in the butt.

"I am leaving. Now!"

He was sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, leaning forward, putting on a pair of disposable slippers. The action made him dizzy – he knew he wasn't completely right from the smack in the face. His top lip had to be almost sewn back on, and it hurt to move his mouth, and he got dizzy if he moved too quickly. But he needed to get back to work.

He opened his mobile and dialled Morgan. One of the nurses stepped forwards to tell him he shouldn't be using it in the hospital, but the look Rossi gave her froze her in her tracks. Without taking his eyes off her, he waited for him to answer.

"Where are you, Derek? I'm coming out."

Morgan quickly briefed him on what was going on. "Reid is there. I haven't had a chance to call yet. Would you stop by and check on him?"

"I'll do that." he said, "Then I'll meet you back at the offices."

He closed his phone, and went to leave the ward.

"Your clothes, Sir." The nurse held a bag out to him. He briefly looked inside.

"I uh won't be needing them." he said, breathing in the sweet garbage aroma. "I have a change of clothes at the office." He paused, then, "Where is Spencer Reid, a patient here. I would like to visit before I go."

Wearing hospital pyjamas and gown, he padded along the corridor where he was given the ward number and directions to find Spencer.

-0-0-0-

Spencer could feel the air being pushed into his lungs, and he could hear a hissing sound as a machine breathed for him. Each time his lungs inflated, a pain that felt like a steel band around his chest tightened. Broken ribs – he knew that pain only too well. He could remember the fight on the stairs – actually not much of a fight really. He thought he had been pushed, and his body hurt as if he had fallen. He remembered Emily, and his pathetic attempt to help her. His mind wouldn't slow down, and he couldn't relax.

His eyes were closed. He made an attempt to open them, before he realised that they were taped closed.

He needed to communicate. There were things he needed to say.

He needed to find Aaron, and now Emily.

He felt someone touching his hand...and a voice.

"Hey, Reid."

Rossi! So they hadn't forgotten about him!

Spencer felt Dave's hand on his forehead. It was nice to have that contact. Later when he could, he would thank him. The touch relaxed him.

Rossi was talking to him. "I have to go now, Reid. I will get back when I can." Dave's fingers tightened on his hand. Spencer concentrated on returning the gesture.

Suddenly he felt safe.

-0-0-0-

When Rossi stepped into the alcove that was Reid's ward, he stopped in shock. All Morgan had said was that he had been hurt and was recovering in hospital.

He didn't expect this though.

Reid's head was bandaged, and tape held his eyes closed. The tube in his throat breathed for him. One arm and both legs were splinted, and his chest, which was uncovered, was a mass of bruised flesh. His face bore the signs of having been hit – eye lids red and swollen, lips cut and split. He had a drip in his unbroken arm which was delivering pain killers and glucose.

Dave went to stand beside him.

"Hey Reid." he said. Reid had hair stuck in the dried blood on his face. Gently Dave removed it and rested his hand on Reid's forehead. "I have to go now, Reid. I will get back when I can."

Dave picked Reid's hand up off the bed and squeezed it gently. He could have imagined it, but he thought he felt Reid's fingers tremble in his hand.

He laid the hand back down and left the room. He made his way down to the reception area where he ordered a taxi to take him to work.

-0-0-0-

Emily watched at the man closed the door at the top of the stairs, and she went to the place where he had left her the blankets. Picking them up, she ran to Hotch's side.

Naked from the waist down, his clothes were caught in a tangle around his right ankle. Carefully she removed them, and covered him with a blanket. She saw the gun at his ankle, but she needed to help him first. Gently she pulled his shirt and jacket down, trying not to notice the bite marks and bruises on his body. She tore one blanket in half and rolled it up beneath his head.

"Hotch, can you hear me?" she whispered, her hand softly against his face. He was so cold.

The swollen eyelids opened slightly. His broken lips trembled, but he made no sound. She saw that he had tears in his eyes.

"I am going to get help." she said. She crawled to his feet, and took the gun. She checked that it had a bullet in the chamber and shot the chain that was holding her onto the pillar. The chain fell away and she quickly pulled the end through the cuffs. The second shot broke the cuff

She went back to Hotch, and pushed the cover in tight around him. "I am going now!"

He tried to take her hand. She saw the movement and held his hand in hers. She touched his face. "I need to go!"

Aaron lifted his head and again his lips moved. She bent down to hear what he was saying.

"I must ...go ...with you..." he whispered. She knelt back and looked at him. She couldn't leave him.

"It will hurt you, Hotch. I can't do it. You could die."

Then she realised that she had to take him with her. If he came back and she was gone, he would kill him anyway.

"I am so sorry, Hotch. This will hurt you."

He nodded his head, and lifted his arms to her. Carefully, she put one of his arms around her shoulder, and slowly stood up. With her other arm around his back, holding the blanket tight around him, she took a step towards the stairway.

Hotch couldn't move his legs, and his bare feet dragged along the ground. He bit down on his lip, he didn't want to cry out, but she could feel him shaking in her arms.

"Hotch, this isn't going to work." she said. "I will carry you to the steps. Hold on around my neck."

She felt him grip tighter, and she let go of his hand. She passed her arm under his hips and lifted him off the ground. The blood had soaked through and the blanket felt warm and wet. She took two staggering steps, when his arm slipped away from her neck and his head rocked backwards. He fainted in her arms. The pain was too much for him to bear.

In a way, she was glad that he had passed out. He wasn't hurting while he was unconscious. She took a few more steps until she reached the foot of the stairs, and carefully she rested him onto the floor.

Looking up the stairs, she knew she wouldn't be able to carry him up. She knelt down beside him, and wrapped him again.

"I am so sorry, Hotch. I am going to have to leave you now. I am going to get help." She turned away from him, tears welling up in her eyes. "Forgive me Hotch." She put the gun in his hand and put his finger on the trigger.

She ran halfway up the steps, and looked back down at him.

_I am sorry. Please hold on. I will be as fast as I can._


	11. Late or Living

Chapter 11  
Late or Living

"_**Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your **__**prayers**__** to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.**__**" - Sarah Ban Breathnach**_

The group of lads stood in a tight circle, laughing and comparing ring tones. Billy had just bought a Blackberry, and was showing off a little. They looked intimidating, they all knew, and often people would cross the road to avoid them, but they were good lads really. The worse they ever did was nick from Walmart.

Zig the uncontested leader, looked up when he heard someone approach.

"Hey! ...Excuse me!"

The woman was a mess. She looked to Zig as if she had been smacked around. He nudged the lad standing next to him, and the group quietened, and looked at the woman.

"My name is Emily Prentiss, with the FBI.I need your help." she said weakly

Zig and his right hand man Pete went to her and helped her to sit on the kerb. Pete called nine one one.

"Please...call..."

Emily was exhausted. She had found herself in the middle of nowhere when she came out of the building where she had left Hotch. Each second that she left him was a second he came closer to dying. She ran towards the town, and when she saw the lads in a group on the outskirts of Quantico, she almost cried with relief. Now, sitting down with a mobile phone within reach, her body gave up.

With a sigh, she slumped sideways against Zig and passed out.

"Ambulance is on its way." Pete said. "Do you think she really is a Fed?"

"Could be." Zig said, checking her pockets. "She's not carrying anything."

Billy was tapping her name into his Blackberry. "In case we forget!" he grinned.

Zig put his arm around the unconscious woman, and they waited for the ambulance.

-0-0-0-

He sat in front of the monitor, un-zipped his pants, and switched it on. This was the finest way to check Emily's loyalty. Let's see what she does to the Hotchner person when she's alone with him.

The screen flashed into life, and quickly the light setting adjusted.

He leaned forwards on his chair, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"How the Hell?..." he shouted. His chair fell backwards as he leapt to his feet.

On the screen, he saw the chain on the ground. A dark stain on the floor where the man had been.

He picked up the monitor and hurled it across the trailer with a roar of anger. A flash of sparks as the monitor smashed on the wall. He ran outside and got in his car.

_Disloyal bitch! After everything I offered to you, you do this to me! I'll bloody kill you!_

He gunned the engine and sped away, clouds of dust in his wake.

-0-0-0-

"Wait here." Dave told the taxi driver. "I will get the fare."

The driver watched his strangely dressed passenger run into the main door of the FBI head quarters with a bemused smile on his face. Seconds later the man returned and paid him.

"Keep the change." he said, and turned and ran inside again.

Rossi took the lift to the bullpen and braced himself for the looks he was sure to get. It wasn't often that a senior profiler arrived at work in his PJ's and dressing gown. He stepped out of the lift into a deserted room. Then he realised that his family was in the conference room.

When he entered, Garcia was in the middle of telling the team what she had found out about the roses. She hesitated when Dave went in, and he felt three pairs of eyes staring.

"Carry on." he said, seating himself beside her.

"I...um...and...yes, I found three places that sell these roses to the general public. I have a list of all purchasers. One name came up on the list from two of the outlets. I ran the name and came up with this."

She passed copies of what she had found to her colleagues.

"William Sanders. He has a history of alcohol abuse, with several DUI convictions. Until recently he was employed as a technical adviser at Marchants, the building materials manufacturer. He lost his job a month ago for turning up drunk."

"Substance abuse is a common history for stalkers." Rossi said. "Losing his job could have been the stressor."

"Adjustment Disorder?" Morgan asked.

"Possible." Dave said. "Do we have an address?"

"We do," Garcia said, "But it's three years old. "

"Ok," Morgan said. "I have some Security tape stills here." He passed the pictures around. "The Toyota is registered to Sanders, address is the three year old one."

Morgan had that twitchy feeling inside that he got when they were closing in on an UnSub.

"Dave, do you want to come to check out the address?"

Dave nodded. "I have a change of clothes." He left the room and went to his office where he kept a bag packed in case he needed to fly out at short notice.

Jeans, pale blue shirt and tie, and a navy cord jacket. Fortunately he had some shoes there too. Brown loafers. He put them on without socks.

He met Morgan by the lift.

"Take this." he said, passing Rossi a gun. "We might need it."

Morgan followed Rossi into the lift, happy to defer to him. His mobile buzzed as they crossed the parking area.

"Morgan." he said in a clipped tone. He stopped walking and listened. He thanked the caller, and straight away called Garcia.

"Just can't keep away, can you, Sir Knight!"

"Baby Girl, Emily has been taken to hospital. She was found in the street by a group of lads. I'm sending you the location where she was picked up so that you can include it when you search Sanders' background."

"Is she ok?" Garcia asked, more than a little worried.

"She passed out with delayed shock, but she woke up on the way to hospital. She asked them to call me. I am going to get JJ to go and see her, find out where she was held, and if Hotch was there."

He closed the phone, and looked at Rossi, who had stopped, and was listening. He nodded ok, and Morgan called JJ as they continued across the lot to the SUV.

-0-0-0-

Sanders drove around the back of the storage building. This time he didn't bother to hide the car. He got out and ran inside, leaving the car door open. He switched on the light at the top of the stairs.

"Emily!" he called. His voice echoed around the vaulted ceiling. "Emily, Sweetheart, where are you?"

She had gone. And there at the bottom of the stairs was Hotchner. Not only was she disloyal to him, the one who loves her, but even to this other man.

His love for Emily was changing.

He went down the stairs. Hotchner had a gun in his hand, and he was trying to point it at him. He was too weak though, and his hand fell back as he groaned helplessly. Sanders kicked his hand and the gun skitted across the floor.

"So she dumped both of us." he said, looking down into dark tired eyes. "We have to move from here, Hotchner, because they are going to come for us."

He grasped Aaron under the arms and began to pull him up the stairs. Hotch's head fell forward, and his arms hung limp from Sanders' grip. He had no fight left in him; struggling was not an option. As his legs knocked against the steps, he cried in pain as the shock reached his knees, and waves of agony engulfed him. When they reached the top, Sanders kicked open the door, and continued the agonising journey to the car.

Sanders dropped Hotch at the car, undecided whether to dump him in the boot, or shove him in the back. He hadn't planned for this, and he was aware that now was when mistakes could be made. His first mistake was not checking Hotchner properly for guns. He didn't want to make another.

He decided on the boot. It was less likely that he would be spotted.

He picked up his injured prisoner again. Damn Emily, ruining his plans.

He had a third thought; to kill him here and be done with it.

No. He could be useful. If he doesn't die first.

With each breath, Hotchner gave a distressed moan. Sanders didn't want to be listening to that while he drove. Another reason to put him in the boot of the car.

He rolled Aaron over the lip and into the boot. Then he slammed the lid shut.

He drove away from the building, not knowing where he was going to take him.

-0-0-0-

As Rossi drove to the Sanders house, Morgan was on the phone to Garcia.

"About half a mile from where Emily was picked up, there is a disused wine storage depot. From Em's description, it could be the place. I'm uploading the address now."

"What's the connection with Sanders?"

"His Dad was a night watch man there. Apparently he often took William to work with him after his mother left when he was seven."

"Thanks kitten. I think we might go there first. Has the car been spotted?"

"Nothing yet. I'll keep you posted."

Morgan turned to Rossi. "Garcia has found an address that could be where he's holding Hotch." He read out the address. Rossi turned the car around without slowing, and headed out of town. They didn't speak until Rossi pulled into what was once a staff car park. The tarmac was cracked with weeds pushing up through the gaps.

"No car." he said, getting out of the SUV. "He might have gone when he realised that Prentiss had escaped."

They crouched, guns ready, and ran to the door. They stood on either side, adrenalin pumping. Morgan reached across and pushed it open. They stood listening for a second, then Rossi signalled to Morgan, and they entered.

There was no sound. Rossi switched on his flashlight and swept the room. There were several doors, but one had obviously been used recently. They went to the door, Rossi pointing his gun ahead, Morgan checking behind.

They took the same stance at the second door. Although they were fairly certain that the UnSub was no longer around, that was when mistakes were made, mistakes that cost lives. Again Morgan opened the door. Rossi swept the room again, the flashlight just powerful enough to reach the corners of the storage space. Morgan's torch picked out blood on the steps, leading from a dark bloody stain at the bottom of the stairs.

They cautiously descended into the basement. Morgan kept his light trained on the blood where only a few minutes before, Hotch had been lying. Rossi found his gun.

"Aaron's ankle gun." he said. "It's missing two rounds."

"Emily shot two rounds to break the chains."

"Hotch didn't get a shot off." Rossi said.

"Look at this." Morgan said. There was a blood soaked blanket close by, and further in they found the chain and more blood.

"He's lost too much blood." Dave said gently. "We're running out of time."

-0-0-0-

Hotch was lying semi conscious in the boot of Sanders' car. He was awake enough to be hurting, but not enough to think. He shifted slightly, and his knees caught on the side of the cramped prison he was lying in. He cried out at the dreadful pain, his hands in his hair, he pulled, digging his fingers into his scalp. He realised that he had no feeling below the knees, whereas before, he felt radiating pain up into his groin, and downwards to the soles of his feet, now the pain was only travelling upwards. He had a flash image of himself as an amputee. He felt tears of pain flood his face and dampen his hair. and he prayed to his estranged god that Emily was safe.


	12. Disposal

Chapter 12  
Disposal

_**Green-Ghost IronButt posted the following: "Be sure to remove the teeth and slice off any identifying tattoos, a disfigurement of the fingerprints wouldn't hurt either (acid or burnt off) You got to be sure the person doesn't have any dna on file." **_

_**/forums/vtf-classics/46089-what-best-way-dispose-body-2.html**_

Morgan and Rossi were at a loss. They had made a brief search of the grounds and found where Sanders hid his car. But they also found the place where the blood trail ended. This was in full view of the road, and not hidden at all.

"He knows we are closing in." Dave said. "He panicked. He's just grabbed his hostage and moved on."

"He likely doesn't know where he's going either." Morgan agreed. "This wasn't in his plan."

Dave's mobile trilled. It was Garcia.

"There has been a possible sighting of the UnSub's car." she said. "Caught on camera on the 66 heading west out of Virginia."

Dave and Morgan got back inn the SUV; Dave put his phone on speaker.

"There was only one occupant." she finished worriedly.

"We're on it." Dave said. "And thank you."

"Pleasure." she answered, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.

Dave drove out onto the road, towards the 66.

"He's either hidden him, in the rear foot well, or more likely the boot, or he's..." He didn't need to finish. The possibility that Hotch was dead had already occurred to both of them, although voicing it almost felt like a self fulfilling prophecy. Rossi gripped the wheel with white fingers.

As Dave committed multiple traffic violations, Morgan called the hospital where Reid was in the high dependency ward.

"Are you a relative?"

Morgan glanced at Rossi. "Yes. He's my baby brother."

_Well, emotionally speaking, he is, if not birth brothers, then certainly brothers in arms._

"Doctor Reid is in a drug induced coma." he was told. "He has brain swelling brought on by trauma, probably when he fell. That is what we are watching at the moment."

"When will you be bringing him round?" Morgan asked. "Is he going to be ok?"

"We can't give an accurate..."

Morgan cut her off. "Look, I need to know. "

He heard the woman sigh at the other end of the phone – whether annoyance or regret, he couldn't tell.

"In cases like these," she said. "It's roughly fifty fifty that the patient wakes up when the drugs are stopped. Of those that don't, some take longer to recover than others." She paused. "In a few cases, the patient is too badly damaged, and never wakes."

Morgan struggled to find a reply, when she went on, "Every case is different. I'm afraid we can't predict these things. I am sorry."

"Do the doctors know when they will stop the drugs?"

"You need to check that with the Doctor for that. I will pass your concern on."

_For heavens sake! This is like blood out of a stone!_

"I'll call back!" Morgan closed his phone in exasperation.

Rossi glanced across at him. "They're always the same." he said.

"Yeah, I know. But this is Reid."

-0-0-0-

Reid was in fact hovering. He was in that stare of quasi-awareness; unsure if the things his senses were feeling were real or otherwise. Whatever it was, it felt nice. His genius mind concluded that if it was nice, then it probably was otherwise.

Someone gentle was touching him. He thought it was Aaron; the hands were warm and kind, stroking his hair, holding his hand. They were floating together, flying, falling, but he was safe, Hotch was not going to let him be hurt. He heard a voice, Aaron was calling him, he thought; calling his name, telling him he was safe, and soon they would be together. The light was pink and mauve and gold and it was beautiful and soft, and Spencer felt a smile break out on his still features.

_Turning_

It changed. He saw Aaron, and reached out for him, touching his face; flesh stuck to his fingers and pulled away; dark frightened eyes stared at him as his face dissolved, running and dripping like melted wax into blackness, and revealing white bone beneath. The light dimmed to shades of red and deep purple and black, and the air moved, howling, snatching, blowing through Aaron's hair. Words of encouragement degenerated into a death scream; Aaron released Spencer's hand and gripped his hair which he pulled out in stiff bloody clumps, flesh pulling away with it. His now lipless mouth opened and screamed again and the flesh on his throat fell away. Spencer tried to push the flesh back , tears of fright and distress trickling down his silent unmoving face. The skull crumbled into dust under his touch; Spencer tried to scream, to call him back, to save him, but he was gone, dead and rotted in front of him. Immersed in the fear and horror of the dream, the image of Aaron dying while he watched burnt onto the inside of his eyelids. He felt the bands around his chest tighten and dreams and reality became one.

-0-0-0-

Everyone moved at once. They all knew what they had to do. This had happened so many times. Sometimes the patient was saved, sometimes they died. The alarm was pressed; the Crash Trolley was pulled out of its designated place and rushed down the corridor. The closest Doctor ran into the HDU.

"Reid! Second alcove!" someone shouted.

"Page the Attending!" A man's voice.

The back rest was laid down, and paddles greased.

Familiar shouts of, "Charging." and, "Clear!" and the battered body of Spencer Reid jerked off the bed.

"Come on, Spencer!" a voice cried as his body jumped a second time.

A whispered oath, and a quiet prayer, a third attempt, and the body on the bed jumped again.

No sound in the tiny ward as they waited for the thin green line on the oscilloscope to show a beating living heart. A silent cheer, and the little crowd went back to what they were doing. Spencer Reid went back to his dream.

-0-0-0-

Rossi was driving along the 66, Morgan was on the phone to Garcia again.

"There are cameras on the junction of the 66 and 81. There has been no sighting of him. He could have turned off."

"He was spotted at Markham, so he could have turned off anywhere between there and Cedar Creek!"

He cut the connection. Dave had heard the conversation. Local cops were trolling the 66, but none had seen the car.

"We are going to have to check every damn turn off along the route." Rossi said. "What about satellite imagery?"

"The area's too wooded for it to be of any use." Morgan said. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "We're going to be too late, aren't we?"

Dave said nothing, as he slowed down to take the next turning.

-0-0-0-

Sanders pressed down on the gas peddle, screaming at the car. It wasn't built for the tracks he was trying to drive down. The ground was hard and rutted, and the wheels were stuck.

He still didn't know where he was going. He rested his head on the steering wheel and cried. All he wanted was Emily to love him. She would, if only she would give him a chance to show her how he could protect her. Surely he had proved that?

His thoughts returned to the man in the boot. He had forgotten his name again, and he took the ID out of his pocket to check.

Hotchner. Yes.

He said the name to himself a few times; he didn't want to keep forgetting it.

Emily had seen how far he would go to protect her, and what does she do? She deserts.

He got out of the car, and went to the back. When he opened the boot, the man didn't move. He reached in and pulled him out by his shoulders and dropped him on the ground. There was still no movement.

He had to get rid of the body.

He panicked again. He was naturally an organised person. The last few weeks had been planned down to the last second. It was Hotchner's second gun that cocked everything up. He felt a rage burning. It was this man's fault he was here, stuck in these godforsaken woods with a car that didn't move, and a corpse to get rid of.

He kicked the man as hard as he could, completely lost in his fury. He knelt with his knees either side of Hotchner's chest, and punched the face. Hotchner's head jerked first one way and then the other; still the man didn't react to the beating. Sanders' fists were clenched in an out of control frenzy. He stopped hitting. He had to get control, or he would lose this battle. The prize was his life. He had to win!

He stood up, picking the body up by the front of his shirt and his tie, which incongruously was still knotted neatly at Hotchner's throat. He dragged the body away from the car. Sat on a fallen tree, he tried to get a hold of himself, and consider his options.

He could burn the car with the body in it. That wouldn't work. He knew that the body could give evidence, even after being burnt in a car. They would ID the body, and Emily would tell them what he had done. _The bitch!_ He could burn the car, and bury the corpse. Or leave the car where it was, and bury the corpse. Or he could burn the body and the car, then bury whatever was left of the body. He looked down at Hotchner, lying on the leaves and moss.

_Yes, that last option sounds the best. They will find the car, but all the evidence will be destroyed. They won't find the body, and even if they chanced upon it, there would be no evidence._

Ahh yes. He felt in control again. He knew what he was going to do.

He dragged the body further along the pitted track to find a clearing where he could destroy the evidence. He found a small area just off the main pathway; He dropped Hotchner in the centre, and went back to the car. He had an empty petrol can and a tube in the boot. Careful not to swallow any fuel, he siphoned a little out of the tank. It wasn't hard. He had often stolen fuel like this. He tipped some onto a rag, and stuffed it in the fill hole. A flick of his lighter, and the car would blow.

Smiling at his ingenuity, he lit the fuse and carrying the petrol can ran back to the clearing.

Almost done!


	13. Last Thoughts

Chapter 13  
Last Thoughts

"_**There are four questions of value in life... What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love." Don Juan deMarco (1995) - Johnny Depp **_

Dave stopped when they heard the explosion. He had just left the highway, and hadn't yet entered the wooded area. Morgan got out and looked around. He pointed to a plume of smoke a few miles west.

"We need to check it out." Morgan said, getting back in the passenger's seat. It could be relevant to us, but even if it's not, someone could need help."

Neither of them wanted to be side tracked. If it wasn't part of their case, it would be so hard to get involved, knowing that they were not looking for Sanders.

Rossi backed out of the turning and drove west along the 66. When they drew level with the smoke, he turned off again. Morgan called Garcia and told her what was happening.

They could see the bright orange flames from the road. There was a narrow track leading into the woods. Rossi left the SUV at the roadside, and, guns drawn, they carefully picked their way along the rutted track towards the flames.

-0-0-0-

Emily was pleased when the doctor told her she could go. She had collapsed with exhaustion and stress, and her legs were not too bad, once the blood was washed off. She had a few stitches, and her face was bruised, but she was fine.

She had told JJ everything she could remember about where she had seen Hotch. Now she was anxious to get back out there and join in the search. She, fortunately, had some clothes.

She got a taxi back to the bureau and went straight to Garcia.

"Hey! Em! You ok now?"

"Fine. Where are they? I need to get out there."Garcia brought up a map showing the 66 west of Quantico. "They are here." Garcia said. "They saw an explosion, possibly a vehicle fire. They are on their way to check it out." She sent the map to Emily's cell GPS.

"Shouldn't be too hard to find. I'll call them when I'm close."

Emily ran to the lift and descended towards the parking garage.

-0-0-0-

Sanders didn't run fast enough. He had made the fuse too short, and the flash from the explosion travelled further than he thought. He felt the heat on the back of his neck as he dived for cover. The back of his clothes were singed and his hair at the back was hot and charred. He touched the back of his neck and it was blistered and sore.

"Dammit Hotchner you bastard!" he screamed, running back to the clearing.

He thought Hotchner might have moved but he couldn't be sure. He was making so many mistakes now, he felt out of control again, and that made him so angry.

He rolled Hotchner onto his back. His eyes were closed, and Sanders bent down and pulled his eye lids apart. His eyes rolled, and Sanders knew then that the man wasn't dead. He stood with his feet on either side of Hotchner's hips, and pulled him up by his shirt again. He dragged him to the edge of the clearing, just in case someone was to pass that way and see him.

"So you are still living? You really are determined, aren't you." he hissed. "I am going to bury you soon, after I kill you by burning you. You will never be found." He threw him back down, and enjoyed the way his head bounced on the hard ground.

"I am going to dig your grave now." he said, looking around for something to dig with. It need not be a deep hole. Hopefully there wouldn't be much left to bury. He smiled at the thought. The world seemed to be closing in on him, but he would beat them yet!

He found a length of a branch that was not rotten, and he found some softer ground in amongst the trees, and he marked a rectangle about four feet by two. He thought even if there was a lot to bury, it wouldn't be too hard to remove the legs at the knees. He thought he could do that after he incinerated the body.

He hummed softly to himself. He was back in control, and the world stepped back a bit.

-0-0-0-

Aaron had moved. He had dragged his smashed dying body about two feet towards the edge of the clearing. He couldn't just lie there in agony waiting to die. No pain was as bad as losing hope, and he still clung to its flimsy filaments. As long as his heart was beating in his chest, and his lungs were taking in oxygen, however erratically, he would fight. He saw his precious child whom he would love as long as he lived. How could he ever give up and leave him? How could he be a Daddy if he was dead? He thought of his team, how he couldn't protect them if he gave up. Rossi! What had he done to Rossi! He needed to get out and find Dave, his friend.

His mind wandered...he thought of how excited he felt when Dave called him and said he wanted to come back, how afraid he was being the unit chief, when Dave had been his chief all those years ago...Dave, reliable, good, good friend, Dave.

_I am so sorry, Dave, letting you down. Please, lead my team, protect my team...I know it will be safe in your hands..._

He had been left lying on his back. Blood had settled in the back of his throat, and he wanted to be sick. He struggled to turn over, and not scream as his knees hit the woodland floor. He dug his hands into the grassy soil, and pulled himself along. If he could just hide, he could maybe live a little longer. Fingernails broke and bled as he struggled across the ground.

His legs dragged behind him, his injured knees against the rough ground made him want to rip his legs off. He pressed his face into the grass to muffle the cries that he was trying so hard to suppress. He couldn't let this evil man see him cry; he refused to show weakness, even as he was dying, he would die defiant, strong.

_He remembered Haley...oh Haley, how I loved you. _

He couldn't think straight. The pain and agony of moving was destroying him. If he could just stop the pain...just for a moment, give himself a pain free interlude...but he couldn't remember what pain free really felt like. How could he attain something he knew nothing about?

Hands pushed him onto his back again.

_Are you going to hit me again? I will not die easily..._

-0-0-0-

"It's Sanders' car." Morgan said. The two agents stood and watched it burn. "I can't see if there's anyone in it."

"We will have to wait until the flames have died down. We're not going to get any evidence. We've got nothing. Just that this car was parked close to where Hotch was kidnapped."

"A good lawyer will rip that to shreds." Morgan sighed, taking a step back as the heat intensified. "If there is a body in the boot, we might be able to get DNA evidence to prove it's...uh...to identify..."

Rossi stepped closer to Morgan. He put his hand on his shoulder. They watched the flames get lower.

"I'll go back to the car and see what I can find to open the boot with if we need to. " Morgan said. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Oh god, Dave. What if we find him in the boot? Oh god. ..."

Morgan turned away from the fire and walked back to the SUV.

Dave stared into the flames.

_Aaron, please don't be in there..._

-0-0-0-

Sanders was filthy dirty, sweat cutting clean streaks through the dirt on his face. It was more of a scrape than a hole. He wiped the sweat off his face, dropped the wood he was digging with and went to sit by Hotch again.

"Well, Hotchner, it's almost ready." He glanced over at the petrol can. "It will be quick for you, I'll let you have that." he said. "I have some accelerant to send you off with." He sat quietly next to his motionless victim for a minute or two, getting his breath back. Then he stood up and went back to digging.

"Bloody hard work!" he hissed. "You should be doing this!"

-0-0-0-

_Almost ready? He is going to burn me to death. I cannot run, scream, wave my burning arms above my head like torches. I will lie here, and burn and not move._

_Then I will be pain free. Then I will think again._

He thought of opening his eyes. One last look at the beautiful world, so full of wickedness and evil.

_Jack, please understand. I am away from you, but I am protecting you. Each bit of evil I can destroy is one piece that cannot hurt you. I will destroy the destroyers, one piece at a time, for you, my sweet child...I love you..._

Aaron looked up at the sky. Deep deep blue, purple at the edges – oh how lovely this last look is to him...

Something splashed into his open eyes, and he had to scream – the cry was out before he realised the sound was his. It splashed into his mouth, up his nose, burning liquid sucking moisture from his weakened flesh. He knew the smell. He had promised accelerant. Here it was.

_Oh god...this is going to hurt so much...please, let me die quickly, give me courage to die bravely._

He wanted to beg now. His mouth was blistered and cracked, and all he could do was swallow the blood and fluid that was running into his mouth as the skin broke down and wept like his eyes.

A last effort, if he could just stop his face from burning, his child could say good bye.

Shaking trembling hands lifted agonisingly to his face as more liquid of immolation was poured onto his face and hair.

"_I am sorry Jacky, Dave... and Spencer. We could have had so much...I am sorry..."_


	14. Meeting

Chapter 14  
Meeting

"_**The **__**fire**__** you kindle for your enemy often burns yourself more than them**__**" - Chinese Proverb**_

Emily parked behind Dave's SUV on the main drag. She could see the flickering of the fire through the trees, but she couldn't see Rossi or Morgan. As she left the car, she got out her mobile to call them, but suddenly thought that the ring could compromise them if they were watching Sanders. She decided to circumnavigate the burning car, and approach from the other side.

The undergrowth was thick, and grabbed at Emily's legs as she fought her way through the bracken and trailing brambles. Her legs were heavily bandaged, for which she was glad. She held her gun with both hands, swinging it at every sound in the dark night. The flickering firelight through the trees made the darkness come to life, shadowy wisps of ethereal creatures curling through the night.

She had never feared the dark, and found it hard to understand those who did. Tonight she understood.

Slowly she made her way around the flames.

-0-0-0-

Morgan was mesmerised by the heat and dying flames. He was so bloody certain that Hotchner was in the car, he found he was going through how he was going to tell Reid that they had lost their team leader.

_Stop it! Derek Morgan, stop now! _

Hotch would have said, without evidence to the contrary, assume that the victim is still alive, and work the case accordingly. He had never felt so afraid to see the truth.

The flames were burning low now. They could clearly see that there was no one in the car. Morgan had a tyre iron in his hand. Together, he and Dave went to the back of the car. The heat had buckled the boot lid, and Morgan pushed the end of the tyre iron into the gap, and leaned down. It took several attempts to lever open the boot, but slowly, it creaked open.

Neither agent wanted to look. Neither wanted to find a body like this, it was one of the worst. But if they found Aaron here, it would be an image that would stay with them forever.

Braving the heat that was still being radiated by the twisted metal, they leaned forward to check.

It was with a relieved sigh that Morgan turned away from the charred remains of the usual paraphernalia that most people kept in their cars.

But no burnt corpse.

"He took Hotch with him!" Morgan said, realising suddenly that the relief was short lived. Ok, his body wasn't lying burnt in the car, but now they had to find him.

Wiping sweat from his face, Dave stood next to him.

"From what Prentiss said, he would not be able to walk anywhere. So where ever Sanders is, he has either got to leave the body somewhere, of struggle on, hampered by carrying him."

Morgan dragged his eyes away from the glowing metal hulk, and looked at Dave. "So we need to follow him." Morgan growled. "We'll either get him with Hotch, or if he has left him, I'll make him 

tell me where." Fists clenched, and jaw set, he felt he could get the information out of him with his bare hands.

Dave again passed a comforting hand across Morgan's shoulder. "Call for back-up, Morgan, I'll find this end of the trail."

Morgan stepped away behind a tree to get away from the heat, and called Garcia. He briefed her, and asked her to call the Quantico PD.

"Hotch could be anywhere now. We need help to track them down." he said. "Please, ask them to meet us by the cars at six. We'll look now, but I think we will need them once it is light."

"I'll do that, Angel Fish. I wish there was more I could do." Garcia said. "I have searched the area on line, and there doesn't appear to be anywhere out there that he could be going."

"This is the devolving disorganised UnSub, Princess." Morgan said. "None of this was part of his plan. Overlooking Hotch's ankle gun was his undoing."

"Go find him for us, Babe." she said. Morgan knew that the cheerful words were tainted with fear and worry. She had told him before how useless she felt when a case was peaking. He explained to her that much of the time, without her expertise, the case would never get so far, but he totally understood what she was saying. He didn't think he could just sit, knowing what was going down.

There again, adrenalin was like food to him. He needed the fix to keep him going.

He said good bye to her, and closed his phone, then he looked around for Rossi.

"I think he went this way." He shone his flashlight on the ground. "There's blood here on the foliage."

"So he brought Hotch this way."

"Unless he's hurt himself, yes." Dave said. "And he wasn't carrying him either. It looks as if he was dragged."

"Oh god." Morgan breathed. He was glad it was dark. He couldn't understand how Rossi was staying so much in control, so free and unaffected, as if this was just an unknown victim they were looking for.

Not that any other victim was of lesser importance than Hotch. But when emotions became involved, Morgan's heart was on his sleeve. He couldn't know that Dave, Aaron Hotchner's best and only close friend, was so screwed up inside, he was finding it difficult to even breathe..

The briefest touch and understanding look cost Dave dearly, when all he wanted to do was scream Aaron's name and smash through the trees to find him.

He was crying, but the tears were never shed.

But Morgan couldn't know that

-0-0-0-

"I want you to think about why you are going to die."

Sanders wiped his prints off the can with the front of his shirt, then threw it into the undergrowth. It didn't matter that someone could find it. There was nothing special about it, and they could never trace it back to him.

He stooped down next to the man lying on the forest floor, backing off slightly as the fumes hit the back of his throat.

"Tell me why you are dying. A punishment is wasted unless the person punished knows why it is happening."

Aaron didn't say anything. His mouth was sore and bleeding, his tongue thick and swollen. His throat was burned with the solvent. He couldn't speak.

_Please, just get it over..._

Sanders leaned forwards and pulled Hotch's hands away from his face. His eyes were tightly closed, the hollows filled with little pools of accelerant.

"Your eyes are going to burn well." he said.

Aaron coughed, his mouth filling with blood clots and solvent. He turned his head to one side and threw up, his stomach heaving and tearing as the muscles cramped and twisted. Between each wrenching spasm, he cried out gutturally, his throat making unrecognisable sounds.

Sanders pushed his head back with his foot so that he was facing up again. He noticed that the hollows of his eyes were no longer pools of solvent, but were now filling with tears. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and from his nose.

"It seems," he said, "That I will have to tell you why I am going to kill you."

Hotch laid still. Whatever this man said, he would not be able to refute.

"You touched something that you had no right to touch."

_Emily? I need to protect Emily..._

"You need to be taught that touching is ownership, and you own nothing. She is mine, and only I have the right. I have beaten one who touched, David Rossi. I have killed another; a skinny weak creature. He was pathetic. They have learned that she is mine. You need to learn now."

_Dave's alive? Who has he killed? Spencer? Oh god no! Please, not Spencer...I need to know!... please..._

-0-0-0-

Sanders stood next to his fallen victim. "I want you to open your eyes. I want you to see this."

Aaron's eyes would not open, so Sanders bent down and forced them open. It took several attempts, but at last, Aaron was able to keep them open, although his vision was distorted and blurred. His eyes had lost their dark brilliance, and were coated with a misty sheen. But he could see the brightness of the flame as he flicked his lighter.

Hotch shook with fear...

"FBI Sanders. Do not move a muscle, or I shoot your goddamned head off."

_Morgan? oh god! Morgan!_

Sanders looked up in a panic. Morgan was standing at the edge of the clearing, knees bent, ready to shoot.

Just one man! So Hotchner wasn't so important!

"On your own? You think you can stop me? When this one is gone, I'll hunt you down too!" He held the lighter up, casting an eerie shadow over the still man at his feet.

Morgan looked down at Hotch, searching for a movement. His hand, stretched over his head, twitched. He was still alive. There was still a chance.

Sanders reached into his pocket, and took out a gun. He pointed it at Morgan.

"I think I'll just shoot you now." he said.

"I can promise you, if you pull that trigger, it will be the last movement you will make." Morgan said into the clearing. It occurred to him what a lovely place this was, dawn mist rising, wild flowers ready to open to the rising sun, and he thought how everything lovely was always tainted with the filth and wickedness he had dedicated his life to conquer.

He steadied his gun, levelling it with both hands. But he knew he couldn't shoot. It would only take one tiny spark, and they would lose Hotch. Morgan would die first.

Slowly, Sanders bent down, the tiny lethal flame inches from Aaron's face.

Aaron's eyes widened in terror, silently screaming in his mind...

Dave jumped him from the side, and two guns discharged.

An arc of blood spray, and the lighter fell from Sanders' hand...


	15. Blood & Guns

Chapter 15  
Blood & Guns

_**No one has love greater than this, that someone should surrender his soul in behalf of his friends. John chapter 15 verse 13**_

Emily parted the branches carefully and saw Sanders waving the lighter flame in the air. She could smell the petrol, and gasped at the sight of Hotch lying still at his feet. She couldn't hear what was being said, and her heart twisted in her chest as Hotch turned his head and was violently sick, blood and fluid sprayed on the ground beside him. She raised her gun.

She had a clear head shot, but if he fell onto Hotch, the petrol would go up and kill them both.

So she waited.

She saw Rossi first, half way around the clearing, facing in toward Sanders and Hotch.

Morgan shouted for Sanders to freeze. He was directly opposite her, in full view, his weapon trained onto Sanders. But like Emily, could not fire as it would put Aaron in terrible danger.

It was when he bent down and waved the lethal flame in Aaron's unprotected and vulnerable face that Dave threw himself at Sanders, pushing him away from Aaron.

Emily fired her gun at almost the same time as another gun discharged.

Sanders dropped the lighter, and flames caught the dry grass inches away from where Hotch was lying, exposed and helpless. She saw blood spray; Rossi fell with his arms around Sanders. As they rolled together, Rossi, blood pouring down his face, covering his eyes, pulled himself away, and reached into the spreading flames, trying to beat them out before they engulfed his fallen friend. She ran forward, at the same time, Morgan ran from the other side of the clearing.

Sanders rose, clutching his shoulder. She saw blood run through his fingers, as he bent down and retrieved his lighter. She tried to get a clear shot, but Dave was between her and Sanders.

Morgan raised his gun and with a scream, sent the rest of the clip into Sanders, who dropped the lighter before he could flick it. He screamed and fell back, his chest a mass of blood, and once again, the lighter fell from his grip. Only this time, it was not burning.

Rossi beat out the flames, and from where she was she could see the skin on his palms had curled back and shrivelled in the flames. He was lying parallel to Hotch, separated by a few inches. There was a growing pool of blood at his head. Shakily, he turned his head to look at Hotch, who turned towards him with misty unseeing eyes. Aaron's hand moved to touch Rossi on the arm, where he curled his fingers around his wrist.

_Oh god, Dave. Thank you...thank you..._

Dave's breathing was heavy and erratic, and as he looked at Aaron through blood smeared eyes, it stopped. Aaron felt the change, and his tears of grief fell onto the forest floor.

_No, Dave...no no no!_

-0-0-0-

Emily ran to Sanders and kicked the gun from his hand. As she did, he looked up at her, and even though he was dying, he smiled at her.

"Emily," he whispered. "I love you, Emily!"

But she had gone.

She joined Morgan by their friends' sides, Emily was with Hotch. Morgan was by Dave, on his mobile.

She tried to clean the petrol from Aaron's face and eyes; Morgan dragged off his shirt and gave it to her. Tearing it in half, she wiped the solvent from his skin, now raw and cracked as it dried out. He lifted a hand to her, which she took in hers, while she gently cleaned what she could from his eyes.

"Hotch, we'll have you out of here, you stay with us now..."

Aaron's grip on her tightened, tears washing the solvent from his face. He was trying to speak. Emily lowered her face closer to hear him.

"Dave...help ...Dave...not me..." The words were Hotchner's. The voice was not. His mouth and throat were damaged. She could see that the skin in his mouth was split and where it wasn't bleeding, it was deep red and skinned. She just wanted to hold him, and she prayed that this lovely man would survive, so that she could tell him how she was feeling.

Emily glanced at Morgan who was kneeling astride Dave, compressing his chest. Beads of sweat were forming on Morgan's brow, as he fought to get the man to breathe again. The head wound was bleeding profusely, and Morgan could feel the blood collect around the hollows in the ground where his knees were pressing. He briefly caught Emily's eye, and the expression said, 'I don't know!'

"Morgan's with him, Aaron. He'll be fine." Tenderly she touched his face. There were very few times that she felt genuine empathy, so carefully did she file away her feelings, but sitting here, on the forest floor with a dying man, she felt it in a wave that almost knocked her back.

Her mother had never taught her to give names to feelings. She had just taught her by example that feelings were bad, and interfered with good judgement. So this was something she couldn't name. Words like love, affection, were not spoken about.

The good affect of this was that she could do her job without being distracted by sentiment. The bad affect was now.

She so so gently lifted Hotch's head and rested it on her lap, touching him, whispering to him, trying to keep him conscious.

She kept her confusing feelings to herself. She would see Pen about them. Later.

-0-0-0-

Morgan's arms were hurting. Twice he heard a rib crack under the assault, but he was not breathing. His heart was beating, and he prayed that there was enough oxygen getting through to keep him alive. The bullet had cut a deep furrow in the side of his head, and he could see the white of his skull through the blood.

He knew head wounds bled heavily, but this seemed to be too much.

"Breathe, Dave! Sonofabitch! Breathe, damn it!" He was shouting, and he looked across at Emily with Hotch, and saw her compassion, and tears, and felt his own.

"Please, Dave, please!" he said quietly. "Hotch needs you, we need you, Reid...he worships you! Now come on! Breathe!"

_Where is that goddamned Emergency Crew?_

-0-0-0-

Even as these thoughts passed through his mind, the paramedics crashed into the clearing. One of them came and took over Morgan's position, while another intubated Dave, and attached a bag. Morgan sat back on the ground, flexing his newly discovered muscles, wiping sweat from his eyes.

"Is he going to be ok?" he asked, knowing that the answer would be 'wait and see'. It always was. The 'medic patching up Dave's head wound looked up at Morgan.

"Has this guy got a twin, or have I done him already this week?"

"He only came out today...well, yesterday, actually." he added, looking at the brightening sky. He looked back down. "Take care of him, won't you. He's very precious." He caught the eye of the 'medic strapping Hotch's legs to temporary splints."They both are."

"What in hell's name happened to his legs?" one of the 'medics asked. "Are these gun shot wounds?"

Morgan nodded. "I think so. Will they be able to save his legs?"

"Our Doctor McNeil is a miracle worker. If it's possible to save this guy's legs, he can do it!"

Emily was still holding Aaron's hand as he was taken back down the track to the waiting ambulance. Morgan followed David as he was carried through the trees, still being ventilated. There were three cops waiting at the SUV's as Garcia had requested.

"It's ok, lads. We found them."Morgan said to them. He saw annoyance in their faces, and so he added, "There's the UnSub's body back there though, needs dealing with, since you're here anyway." He resisted the temptation to tell them what UnSub meant, just to annoy them further. There was always the possibility that he would have to work with one of them some day.

_Don't they realise that we are all on the same side here? One of ours down should mean the same to them as one of theirs._

-0-0-0-

As the two ambulances tore through the early morning Quantico traffic, followed by two black SUV's, a nurse was checking an IV line. This patient was in a drug induced coma; his attending thought the pain would be too bad for morphine, so he was being kept under. They were concerned about brain swelling too.

But he wasn't lying still, like coma patients normally do. He was shaking and his hands were moving, and he was making small distressed sounds from the back of his throat.

She wondered if he was having night mares.

_How awful for you, poor man, to be trapped in a bad dream, and not be able to escape._

She touched his hair, smoothing it down, getting it off his face where he had shaken his head, and his hair had fallen across his eyes.

She went to the end of the bed and looked through his notes. He hadn't been in long, and he had been unconscious when they brought him up from the ER. But he had both legs broken, and one arm. He had been beaten, the notes said, and dropped two stories onto a marble floor. She looked up from the notes, and looked at him again. It said he was a cop, a Fed. Lying there he looked more like a boy, like her own son, eighteen. She put down the notes and went back to him. She was due to go off duty in half an hour, and she meant to spend some time here with...she checked the name above his head...Doctor Spencer Reid – nil by mouth.

She wondered why his Mum wasn't at his side. Nothing would keep her away from Ricky if he was so poorly. Maybe his parents were dead; maybe they had just fallen away from each other.

She checked the next of kin. Aaron Hotchner. And a phone number.

If no-one had visited by this time tomorrow, she decided, she would go and see this Hotchner person, and find out why he hadn't been in.

The ward sister was calling her.

"I'll see you later, Doctor Spencer Reid." she said, and briefly touched his hand. She couldn't be sure, but she thought it had responded.

"Jones! Quickly! We have a new patient, and another will be here soon after surgery."

"Coming Sister!" she called back, and left Spencer screaming and thrashing as he watched the man he loved die again.


	16. Beginning of Recovery

Chapter 16  
Beginning of Recovery

"_**Love is a mutual self-giving which ends in self-recovery." - Fulton J. Sheen**_

Jones stood at the main door waiting for her new patient. As he was brought in, she picked up the notes by his feet.

David Rossi, FBI Special Agent, injured on active duty.

She remembered that Spencer Reid was also FBI, and she wondered if they knew each other. She went to the Ward Sister.

"This new patient, David Rossi is FBI, and so is Doctor Reid." she said. "I thought it might be a good idea to put them together, as they might know each other."

"Good idea." Sister said. "Even if they don't, they will have things in common. Will you see to it and re-write the board?"

Jones said she would. She thought it would be nice to put them in the main ward, as she could see all the patients at once in there, and she felt she could do her job better. While the porters wheeled David into the first bay, she went to Spencer's side ward and told him what she was going to do.

"We have a patient named David Rossi." she said. "He's with the FBI too. Do you know him?"

She clipped the drip to the bed, and, kicking the brake, she wheeled him to the second bay in the main ward. Then she stood between them.

"Well David, Spencer, you two have a chat and get to know each other. I'm sure you have lots to talk about,"

She went to Dave's side and read through the rest of his blurb. 10 second and third degree thermal burns to his hands and lower arms, gunshot wound to the scalp. Breathing stopped due to burn shock, and he was being ventilated. Head wound not serious, and although blood loss was extensive, it wasn't considered life threatening.. His eyes were closed, but even so she could clearly see his Italian ancestry. She stroked his thick hair.

His hands were heavily bandaged, and his head wound was glued. She also saw he had an older repair to his philtrum, which was stitched, and there was a lot of bruising to his nose and mouth.

"My Mum was Italian." she told him. "When you're better, you will have to come round and sample my Italian cooking as she taught me."

The Sister handed her a folder.

"This patient is having life saving surgery." she said. "If he survives, he will be joining us down here. Please would you get a bed ready?"

Jones took the folder and flicked through it.

Then s he opened it again at the first page. Still looking at the words in amazement, she went back to Spencer's bed and opened his folder.

"Sister! Look at this!"

_The patient in surgery was actually Spencer's next of kin! No wonder he hadn't visited._

"I'll put him the other side of Spencer." she said.

"You are off now, aren't you?"

"Technically, yes. But if you don't mind, I'll stay until Mr Hotchner get's down here."

"Well, I'm off now. The Doctor is going to take Mr Reid off sedation today." she said as the two of them went into the office for the change over.

"I'm really glad." Jones said. "He seems to be plagued by nightmares. It must be terrifying to be trapped in a dream and not be able to wake up."

-0-0-0-

Dave heard the lady invite him to dinner. It sounded wonderful – real Italian cooking. The last time he ate Italian was trying not to break his teeth on Aaron's pizza.

Aaron!

He was hurt, and in terrible danger!

He fought to surface above the darkness that he was swimming through

It was nice here, but he needed to make sure the flames didn't touch Aaron. His movements felt sluggish and heavy, and his hands hurt. He forced his eyes open and tried to shout Aaron's name.

The cry came out as a painful cough, and he became aware that he had something in his throat. He brought his hands to his mouth and tried to take hold of the thing in his mouth. He raised his hands in front of his eyes, and saw that his fingers had been bandaged together. He gripped the tube between his hands and pulled. The coughing fit that started hurt his throat, and he tried to call Aaron. He turned his head and was violently sick.

_Where the _Diavolo_ am I? What happened to Aaron?_

"Aaron!"

The sound was croaky and thin, but Jones heard the cry and ran to his side from the office.

Quickly she lifted his head and replaced the pillow. He was obviously breathing on his own now, but he was clearly distressed.

"It's ok, David. You are in hospital. You've burns on your hands, and you went into shock." she said. "But you are safe now."

"Aaron..." he said very softly.

"Aaron Hotchner He's not out of surgery yet." She didn't want to say any more just now, in case Mr Hotchner didn't make it. She could see that David was close to him. She tried to side track him.

"I'll get you some water." she said. "Your throat must be sore after pulling the tube out." She touched his face. "I'll get you a drink."

-0-0-0-

Emily and Morgan were drinking coffee in the cafeteria. They couldn't visit Spencer or Dave yet, and Hotch was still in surgery.

They had been told that his knees were a total loss. Nothing could be done to save his legs, unless they could use artificial joints that usually were only given to arthritis victims. But these were special circumstances.

As long as the damage to his long bones wasn't too bad, it should work.

He had internal injuries. The petrol had damaged his skin, especially the mucous membranes in his mouth, upper digestive tract, and most worryingly, to his lungs.

"Lung damage is often fatal." they were told. "We will do everything that we can, but please, be prepared."

Emily blinked back tears. "What about his eyes?" she said. "Will he be able to see?"

"The ophthalmic surgeon is coming to see him tomorrow. Please, try not to worry. We will be giving him our best."

They sat in silence, holding their cups in their hands, the warmth giving slight comfort.

Garcia arrived, and sat with them.

"Pen, I need to talk to you about something." Morgan stood up.

"I'll go and see if we can get in to see Reid yet." Morgan said diplomatically, and left them.

Penny sat opposite Emily and held her hand across the table. "What is it Em? Are you ok?"

"Pen, I have suddenly found that I have feelings for someone. I don't know what to do!"

"Our tall dark and handsome boss by any chance?"

"How did?...I didn't want anyone to know really."

Garcia smiled at her discomfort."Well I didn't know until you just told me."

Emily sighed. "Ok, it's Hotch. I want to know whether I should tell him or not."

"If you really want to know, Em, I'd say no, don't tell him. Just make it obvious that you like him – REALLY obvious, I mean. Our boss might be the top profiler in the country, but he misses things that are under his nose!"

"Why not just out and tell him?"

"Well, and this is just my opinion, Hotch is a leader, and would probably like to think that it was his idea if you got together. And another reason you must flirt shamelessly with him is that he would be afraid to set himself up for a fall, after Haley. He would need to be certain." She paused for a moment. "Oh yes, only flirt in private. He won't like to be embarrassed!"

Emily absorbed this advice. "So why are you not a profiler, Pen?" she said with a grin. "That was top work!"

"The pictures are bad enough." she answered. "I couldn't cope with the real thing."

"Thanks Pen. Shameless private flirting it is then!" She looked up. "Morgan's back."

"We can go in now." he said. "And the good news, Hotch made it out of surgery, and they've managed to give him artificial knees. He's in the same ward as Spencer and Dave."

Garcia gave Emily a quick glance, and they walked towards the ward.

-0-0-0-

Spencer covered his face with his hands and refused now to look at the image that was playing over and over for him. He wanted to block his ears too, but when he moved his hands to his ears, his eyes opened, and wouldn't close. So he had to watch or hear. So he pressed his hands into his eyes. He tried to scream at the same time as Aaron, but whoever was not letting him close his eyes, was also not letting him scream.

So he lay with his hands on his eyes, wet with tears, and rocked his head from side to side, whimpering, begging to be allowed to wake up.

A voice a long way off was telling him something, but over the sound of Aaron's death cries, he couldn't hear what it was. He concentrated. He knew what he was being told was important. He forced the words closer, and gradually he heard what was being said...

"I am stopping the sedative, Doctor Reid. You can try to wake up now. You might find it hard, but keep trying."

_I will try; I want to wake up..._

-0-0-0-

Emily went and sat between Hotch and Rossi. She didn't want to make it look too obvious. Not yet anyway. She was holding Aaron's hand. He was intubated through the front of his neck, because his throat was swollen and they couldn't get a tube in. The machine was breathing for him. His skin was cracked and had bled in places, his lips split and broken. There didn't seem to be a place o hid body that wasn't damaged. Emily touched him gently.

"I need to tell you something, Hotch, while you are asleep." she faltered. "But I don't know how to say what I need to say." She leaned down and kissed his lips, kissing him fully and deeply.

As she pulled away, to her horror, he opened his eyes, and curled his fingers more tightly around her hand.

Soundlessly, his lips formed the words, "Thank you..."


	17. Flufferama

**A/N – Do any of you remember those last little scenes they used to put on the end of American shows in the 70's? They were called 'Tags'. Starsky and Hutch and Star Trek used to have some embarrassingly awful tags. Well, this is one of those...really yuck!! You might need a bucket – especially you, PB!**

Chapter 17  
Flufferama

"_**Not huffy or stuffy, nor tiny or tall, but fluffy, just fluffy, with no brains at all." - A. P. Herbert **_

"I'm ...uh...sorry, Hotch..."

Aaron still had hold of Emily's hand and it didn't look as if he wanted to let go. She looked down at him, and he looked back with deep dark eyes. He smiled at her, and to Emily, it was the loveliest face she had seen.

"You're going to be ok, Hotch." she said, smiling back."They've given you knee replacements, and as soon as the swelling in your throat has gone gown, they will take out the tube."

He tried to turn his head to see who else was there. Very gently, Emily rested her hand on his forehead.

"Every one is ok, Aaron. David and Reid are here with you. They are going to be just fine."

He blinked up at her, a tear ran from the corner of his eyes, and ran into his hair. She just wanted to take him in her arms and hold him. Almost losing him like that made her realise how much she could miss if she didn't just reach out and take what life was offering her. And to miss a chance with a man like this would be a loss she would carry with her for all her life.

"When you are out of here, I'd like us to be together."

He smiled again, and gripped her hand.

-0-0-0-

Spencer screamed, as he had done untold numbers of times. He didn't have to watch the images any more. He knew he would see them forever, asleep and awake. The creature that claimed by its face to be Hotch was writhing and crying in front of him again, but he didn't look. He thought he could remember someone say that soon he would be allowed to wake up, and this would end. He could move freely, but he knew that was only his dream self, and his body was still trapped in unconsciousness.

"I am going soon!" he shouted at the image. "You don't really exist. When I awake, you will no longer exist!"

He was regaining control of his thoughts, he realised that he was coming to the surface of the night mare. He screamed again:

_Help me! Help me wake up!_

Someone's hands were on his face. He thought it was the creature, but the hands were warm and soft...

"It's ok, Sweet Cheeks, it's Garcia. You are safe now; you are coming home to us now."

The voice was kind and sweet and full of compassion. He felt her carefully take the tape from his eyes, and he slowly opened them.

"Hello..." he said thickly, and his hazel eyes blinked and opened wide. "Emily?"

"She's here, Babykins. Talking to Hotch." She glanced across at Emily and Aaron. She noticed that her advice had been put aside, and she laughed.

_Life's too short to let them get away!_

"Rossi is here too," she told him. "It's like a huge reunion!"

Dave was laughing with Morgan. Every time Derek said something, Dave had to hold his mouth.

"That hurts!" he said, an accusatory frown for Morgan. "Stop making me laugh!"

Jones came in to check her patients. She went to Rossi first.

"Hello, David. Nice to see you awake now."

He looked at the owner of the voice that he had heard while he was asleep. A tall woman, five seven, five eight, overweight in a cuddly voluptuous way, long dark hair in a pony tail, flashing green eyes, pale smooth skin. Maybe a few years his junior, but not be much.

"Thank you! That would be nice." he said with a mischievous grin.

"What would?" She frowned at him.

"The dinner invitation, of course," he said. "It's a while since I've had good Italian food." He glanced across at Aaron. He didn't know if Emily could cook. He hoped so! "A meal with a lovely woman is worth waking up for!"

"You'll really come?"

"Of course." he said.

It had been a long time since he had been out with a good looking intelligent woman. Thinking about Aaron, maybe a foursome would be nice.

"I'm not really supposed to do this, you know. We will have to accidentally meet after you go home."

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

He reached out and she took his hand.

"I can see I'm not needed here!" Morgan said. "C'mon, Baby Doll, lets get out of here!"

Garcia grinned at him, and went to stand up. Reid grabbed at her hand. "Hey! What about me? Who's going to wake me up with a kiss?" he demanded.

"You are already awake!" Emily called across. "That would be cheating!"

Aaron nodded slowly.

_It certainly would be cheating!_

Spencer put on his sulky face.

"It's ok, Sparkly, JJ is coming in soon. You should pretend to be asleep." Dave said.

Spencer frowned. How did he know? He's only been here five minutes!

As if on cue, Jareau came into the room. She looked exceptionally pretty today. She had her hair in bunches, tied with tiny curled ribbons, and she was wearing a pink sun-dress. Spencer closed his eyes and waited. Morgan went and whispered something in her ear.

Everyone in the ward went quiet and held their collective breath as Jennifer took Spence's face in her hands and kissed him softly and deeply on his half smiling lips.

-0-0-0-

**A/N – Ha! Wasn't that sickly!! Lol. Anyway, that's the end. New story starts tomorrow, I have the bunny by the ears, and there's no escape.  
Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. I always look forward to hearing from you!**


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